


Wild and Free

by swimmingwolf59



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Accidental Baby Acquisition, Babysitter AU, Blow Jobs, Brief descriptions of domestic violence, College AU, Hand Jobs, I always shit on Gansey in this fic I'm sorry, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Domestic Violence, M/M, Multi, OCs - Freeform, Only chapter 5 is mature, Pirates AU, Pynch Week 2017!, Rating goes up in chapter 5, Ronan and Adam are crazy dog people and no one can convince me otherwise, Soft Ronan, Soft Ronan is my LIFE, art major!Ronan, everything else is teen, i'll update the tags as i go along, model!adam, prompt fills, quiet wonders at the Barns, some internalized homophobia but it's not too bad, wide appreciation for Adam Parrish's hands
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-30
Updated: 2017-08-06
Packaged: 2018-12-08 23:13:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 28,522
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11656677
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/swimmingwolf59/pseuds/swimmingwolf59
Summary: A compilation for Pynch Week 2017!Day 1 - Something old (and something new)Day 2 - Pirates AUDay 3 - "What are you doing here?" ("Am I dreaming?")Day 4 - CollegeDay 5 - DreamscapeDay 6 - FirefliesDay 7 - Accidental baby acquisitionDay 8 - Free choice (the first time they say "I love you")





	1. Of BMWs and Cadillacs

**Author's Note:**

> I'm a day late, but oh well xD;; I doubt I'll be able to keep the schedule at all lol but I will finish the prompts eventually, even if they go outside this week xP  
> I don't know anything about cars so I'm going to apologize in advance xD;;  
> Hope you all enjoy! There are no warnings for this chapter, it's mainly just fluff, cars, and boys being stupid x3  
> Thanks for reading, and happy pynch week!! <3

The BMW is on its last legs.

Ronan has been driving it for ten years, and his father had driven it many years before that. Adam had briefly driven it during his college days, because no way in hell would Ronan _ever_ let Adam drive all the way to Princeton in that old shitbox, but after he’d risen in the ranks as a civil engineer the keys were handed back to Ronan as Adam proudly bought a car for the first time. Ronan hardly goes anywhere—half of his drives are out into the middle of nowhere because he just wants to drive and not think about anything but the wind blowing through the open windows and the cradle of the stick shift under his palm—but when he does he always takes the BMW.

Even if Adam has a rather nice Cadillac that Ronan wouldn’t mind taking for a spin if his husband ever let him.

Adam has kept the BMW running for years, always taking it upon himself to give it regular maintenance and oil changes, as well as coming to save Ronan and jumpstart the engine whenever it stalls in the middle of nowhere. Ronan honestly loves how much Adam respects and cares for his car – if he hadn’t already been head over heels in love with him for twelve years, hell that probably would’ve done him in.

However, Adam’s patience with Ronan’s stubborn grip on his old ass car eventually runs out, as Ronan always knew it would. It probably has something to do with the fact that this is the third time in one week that he’s had to drive out to random fields to pick up Ronan because the BMW broke down. Ronan would laugh at how ironic it is that now _he’s_ the one with the unreliable and dying car, rather than Gansey, if he wasn’t so sad that it means he has to let the BMW go.

Everyone he has ever loved drove this car. Matthew, when he was first learning to drive. Declan, if Ronan is ever in a good enough mood to admit that he loves him, when _he’d_ first learned how to drive. Gansey, when he’d had to pick up Ronan’s drunk ass way too many times to count. Blue, when she’s angry at Gansey or the world in general and needs something that will let her drive recklessly and vent her pent up frustration, a feeling Ronan knows all too well. Adam, all of the time really (and not always just driving). And then of course his father, with Aurora always smiling in the passenger seat.

Ronan has had so many memories in this car, both good and bad, that he can’t bring himself to get rid of it. He gets as frustrated as Adam does when it breaks down everywhere he goes anymore, but he holds such fondness for it inside of him that it tears him apart thinking about sending it to the trash heap.

His trusty stead for so many years deserves better than that.

So he stubbornly keeps driving it, even though he knows that it likely won’t last long enough to get him back home. He and Adam have fought over it too many times to count, but Adam at least respects the sentimental side of why Ronan wants to keep the car.

He just can’t understand why Ronan doesn’t want to get a _new_ car.

“For fuck’s sake Ronan, you don’t have to get rid of the BMW when you buy a new car!” Adam snaps as they’re driving back home in his Cadillac, the BMW abandoned on the side of the road for now until Adam can get a tow truck to come retrieve it. They’re practically friends with the tow truck people by now, Ronan thinks wryly as Adam continues, “Wouldn’t you enjoy driving in a car that can actually handle your ridiculous speeds without breaking down in the middle of fucking nowhere?”

It isn’t unusual for Adam to swear, but the fact that he’s swearing so frequently tips Ronan off that he’s actually really mad this time. He sinks down into the passenger seat, trying not to get angry himself. “I just don’t want to deal with shopping for a new car, alright? Those dumb fucks at the car dealer always think they know better than me and walk me around in fucking circles instead of just trusting that I know which fucking car I want.”

“It’s their _job_ to know more about cars than you, Ronan – you can’t blame them for wanting to make a sale,” Adam says tersely, and Ronan can practically feel his eyes roll. He has to bite back a rude comment about the salespeople, knowing it will only make Adam angrier.

It’s quiet in the car for a moment before Adam sighs heavily and says, “What if someone bought a car for you?”

Ronan snorts. “Alright, first of all – who the fuck would do that? And second of all, I don’t trust anyone knowing what I’d want in a car. Except for maybe you.”

Adam doesn’t say anything to that, so Ronan tugs the hood of his hoodie over his head and stares out the window. Most of their fights end like this, both being too angry to even say anything sometimes, so they just remain in a stony silence until one or both of them reaches out to gently touch the other and signal that, at least for now, things are alright. They’ve survived for ten years like that, both too stubborn for their own good, but it works for them somehow.

Since they fight about this often, the silence only lasts until they make it into the kitchen at the Barns. Ronan had been experimenting earlier with a pasta dish that had exploded in his face, so they just pop some macaroni and cheese in the microwave and collapse onto the couch together. Opal has just started college this year, so they’re alone as Adam draws his fingers through Ronan’s short curly hair that he’s finally started to let grow out again and Ronan rubs his hands along Adam’s thighs in appreciation.

It won’t be long before they fight about the BMW again, but at least for now Ronan is content to just doze into Adam’s side, tangled together like they have been for so many years.

 

\--

 

The next day, Adam is home later than usual.

This isn’t exactly unusual, as Adam often has to work late when there are big projects that need to be finished by an upcoming deadline, but he usually texts Ronan that he’ll be late. Today there is absolute radio silence. He doesn’t answer the two times Ronan calls, and he hasn’t even contacted Gansey when Ronan calls _him_ in a panic.

“He’s dead somewhere, I just know it,” Ronan says into the phone, cradling it with his shoulder as he rubs along Daisy the dream cow’s flank. These days he always goes to the cows when he’s stressed about something. His and Adam’s three dogs wind their way between his legs, but even their presence isn’t at all comforting to him right now.

“Don’t jump to conclusions – there’s been nothing on the news about a dead body, and it’s not like Adam goes anywhere discrete on his route home,” Gansey responds logically, but it does nothing to calm Ronan. “He probably just forgot to text.”

“Parrish doesn’t just _forget_ , and you know it!” Ronan practically shouts. Daisy startles under him, and he coos softly to her in apology.

“Ronan, I’m sure he’s fine! There’s no need to panic yet.” But there’s _every_ reason to panic, and Gansey’s calm tone just infuriates Ronan.

He’s about to spit fire at him into the receiver when just then he hears a car—no, two—pull into the Barns’ driveway.

“Oh thank fuck,” he sighs as he leaves Daisy and rushes out of the barn.

“Ronan is that him—?” Gansey asks, but Ronan is already hanging up on him as he runs across the field, relief flooding through him. The three mutts lumber after him, always eager to see Adam.

“Parrish you goddamn motherfucker!” he shouts as he skids down the hill towards where Adam’s Cadillac and another car are parked next to the BMW in the driveway. He stomps towards Adam’s figure climbing out of his car, worried anger quickly replacing his relief. “Where the hell—”

He trails off as he finally comes to a stop next to Adam and actually gets a glimpse of the car that is tethered to the back of the Cadillac. For a moment he can only blink at it, uncomprehending. “…What the hell is that?”

Ronan, of course, knows what it is – it’s a navy blue BMW Alpina, the newest model that Ronan has been secretly admiring. It doesn’t surprise him that Adam had picked up on that, his love for cars is so strong it’s practically tangible, but that doesn’t explain to him why the car is _here_. He knows what it is, but he can’t comprehend a world in which it would be sitting in his driveway next to his old BMW and Adam’s shiny Cadillac.

Adam is grinning from ear to ear when Ronan forcibly draws his stare from the Alpina to gape at him. “Your new car!”

Ronan can’t even begin to process that, so he avoids a reaction entirely by saying instead, “Why the fuck is it covered in glitter?”

Adam’s expression turns somber as he reaches out to gently trace his thumb along the back of Ronan’s hand. “Because Noah would’ve wanted that.”

The thought of their old friend makes Ronan’s chest and throat tight. It’s been ten years, and he still isn’t over the fact that Noah had been ripped away from them so violently and suddenly. He knows of course that it was supposed to happen, Gansey’s life for Noah’s, but he hates that he never got the chance to say goodbye. That he never got to tell Noah how much he loved him and thank him for getting him through those first few years when his dad died, for making him laugh and doing stupid stuff with him.

He’d been trying for _years_ to find a proper way to honor Noah; leave it to Adam to find such a perfect solution.

He leans into Adam, his husband automatically wrapping an arm around him, and buries his nose into Adam’s hair. Breathing in his scent of pine and motor oil, even after all of these years, is the most comforting thing Ronan knows, and he’s so relieved and angry that Adam made him worry just to go out and buy him a fucking car that he can’t help but bark out a laugh.

“I can’t believe you were so angry with me that you went out and bought me a fucking car.”

Adam just snorts. “Don’t feel so high and mighty – I did it for myself. I’m tired of rescuing your stubborn ass from some cornfield.”

 _I love you_ , Ronan wants to say, but instead he just presses a firm kiss to Adam’s forehead as he stares at the Alpina.

He loves it and he hates it, but mostly he can’t breathe through how moved he is. This car isn’t his dad’s and it’s not full of all of the memories the BMW has, but it’s completely _his_ , in a way that no car has ever been before. It’s something Adam bought for him, something Noah in spirit can passionately decorate with glitter, something they can make completely new memories in. Even though they share a bank account now, he knows how much of a hardship it must have been for Adam to buy him such an expensive car, and he feels so loved and blessed that for a moment he worries he’s going to cry.

“Do you like it?” Adam asks quietly.

Ronan has to swallow through the thick wad of emotions building up in his throat. “I fucking _love_ it.”

It’s of course in that moment that Chainsaw decides to descend onto the car, checking out the intruder. Ronan and Adam watch as she hops around the top of the car, ruffling the feathers on her wings to help keep her balance on the slick surface. Ronan doesn’t mind her poking around, until she stretches her wings to take off and immediately drops a huge crap down the side of the passenger door.

For a moment he just gapes as Adam dissolves into laughter beside him. Chainsaw flies off like nothing happened, and Ronan breaks himself out of his shock enough to shake an angry fist at her as she soars over his head. “Chainsaw, you _fucker_!!”

“I guess that means she approves of it!” Adam snorts, bending over double as he wheezes with laughter.

“I hate that fucking bird,” Ronan growls, and yet it somehow feels fitting at the same time. Everyone that means something to him are leaving their marks on his new car, exactly how it should be. The only thing it’s missing now are a bunch of random sticks and stones that Opal discovered in the woods somewhere. Maybe she’ll bring some home from Washington during Thanksgiving.

“You gonna take it for a drive, Lynch? Break it in?” Adam asks when he recovers from his laughter.

Ronan hums – the idea is appealing, but at the same time, there’s something else he’d rather do. So he pins Adam to the car, pressing flush against him and kissing him deeply. It apparently catches Adam off guard, as he doesn’t even respond until Ronan has already pulled away, grinning. “Later – I need to show a certain someone my appreciation first.”

Adam’s smile is wide, but he finds it in him to roll his eyes anyway. “I can’t believe it took me buying you a car to teach you how to thank people properly.”

Ronan barks out a loud laugh and leans down to cover Adam’s face in small kisses and nibbles. He leaves a kiss for every beautiful freckle that adorns his beautiful face until Adam pulls at his head impatiently and they kiss on the lips. It’s strange how Ronan never gets tired of this – he’s been lucky enough to get to kiss Adam Parrish every goddamn day for the last ten years, but every time it still takes his breath away. It makes him feel alive, and he doesn’t think it will ever stop.

Fucking hell he loves this guy.

“Hey, you know?” Adam says between messy kisses. “The Alpina has a pretty nice backseat – I tried it out at the dealer’s.”

A grin slowly grows on Ronan’s face, but he pretends not to know what he’s suggesting. “Oh yeah? Is it good and soft for the mutts?”

“Oh shut up.” Adam rolls his eyes fondly before turning around to wrench the back door open and push Ronan down onto the seat. “You know what I fucking mean.”

Ronan snickers and proceeds to make good use of the new backseat.

When he pulls into the Sarchengsey household the next morning, Gansey’s eyebrows are to the top of his forehead, Blue is practically on the floor roaring with laughter, and Henry is nodding gleefully in approval.

“Nice car, Lynch!” Blue howls through her laughter.

Ronan wants to hate her for it, but he loves the car more than he can ever say. It has a little of everyone he loves on it after all (hopefully the backseat will always smell like Adam). So he just scoffs and scuffs the back of her head when he makes it up the stairs to their front door.

“Shut the fuck up, maggot.”


	2. Hidden Treasure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ronan would be nothing without Adam spending endless hours poring over maps, eavesdropping on other bandits, paying hard-earned cash for tips from tavern owners. Adam would be everything if he could just move a little bit faster than Lynch.
> 
> As it is, he and Ronan have turned the whole collecting process into a ferocious and brutal game, a game that Adam has been embarrassingly losing for the last two years.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Looks like I'm just going to be a day behind on everything lol ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯  
> Hope you enjoy! This chapter has implied sexual content, but that's about it~   
> Also Noah is a beam of sunshine and I just want my boy to be happy and free and mischievous

“That bastard,” Adam growls, slamming the flat of his sword against the face of an enemy pirate as he scrambles over the railing and onto the ship.

The bastard, notorious thief of the high seas Ronan Lynch, is already on the boat, slashing down enemies left and right. He even seems to be enjoying himself, as no one on this half-assed pirate ship is any kind of match for him. He’s famous among all pirates for his skill in swordplay and for being able to bring back any treasure, no matter where it’s located or who’s guarding it.

What they don’t know is that Adam does all of the work behind the scenes while Ronan does all of the flashy stunts that give him the credit and the publicity, and it makes Adam furious. He doesn’t necessarily want to be the center of attention of a bunch of lowlife pirates, but some appreciation would be nice. Ronan would be nothing without him spending endless hours poring over maps, eavesdropping on other bandits, paying hard-earned cash for tips from tavern owners. Adam would be everything if he could just move a little bit faster than Lynch.

As it is, he and Ronan have turned the whole collecting process into a ferocious and brutal game, a game that Adam has been embarrassingly losing for the last two years.

“Gotta be faster than that, Parrish!” Ronan taunts over his shoulder, sending Adam a feral grin that in other circumstances would be earning him a rather harsh blowjob behind closed doors but now just makes Adam even angrier.

He’ll be _damned_ if he doesn’t reach that treasure first this time.

“You asked for it,” Adam growls under his breath before he goes charging after Ronan. He barely even acknowledges the enemies around him, his only focus the fangs of his rival’s black tattoo curling out from under his ripped black tank and the trap doors that they both know lead down to the treasure. After all, they’ve been doing this for years, and they keep their treasure in the exact same spot back on Cabeswater.

“You guys need to lighten up!” Noah shouts gleefully as he swings down from the mast, knocking pirates down like bowling pins with his feet. His laugh is like a dolphin’s cry. “Raiding is supposed to be fun!”

“I _am_ having fun!” Ronan insists, pausing for a moment to wrench the trap door at his feet open. Adam and Noah instinctively cover him, fending off the remaining pirates. Adam definitely doesn’t let the sweat sheening down Ronan’s neck or the flexing of his ripped biceps distract him. “Parrish is the one who’s a sore loser.”

“I haven’t lost yet,” Adam replies quietly, turning around to give Ronan a raised eyebrow in challenge before leaping into the open hatch himself.

“Hey!” Ronan shouts angrily, but by the clanging of metal suddenly sounding above, the pirates are keeping him too busy to do anything about Adam’s sly move.

He chuckles darkly as he runs down the corridor, banging on walls as he goes to make sure there aren’t any secret rooms. In all honesty, losing so often has always been part of his plan. Ronan is always going to be faster than him, no matter how much secret training he does, so Adam had figured long ago that the only way he could eventually win was to lead him into a false sense of security. Floundering around and always letting Ronan into the hatch first was all part of the plan. He’s only going to be able to use this trick once, after all.

But _damn_ it’s going to be so satisfying to see the look on Ronan’s face when he comes back with the treasure.

By the time he reaches the end of the corridor, he’s checked every room with no luck. There’s only one room left, and Adam feels fit to burst with anticipation and excitement as he wrenches the door open only to find…

…the room is empty.

Adam doesn’t even hesitate before going around the room, checking the walls and the floor. There are always tricks to seemingly innocent boats like this, and his information was too good, too hard-earned, to be wrong. And eventually he finds it, a little place in the floor that makes a hollow knocking sound when he taps on it with the toe of his boot. He carefully feels around the area with his fingers, but there doesn’t seem to be any hidden latches or keyholes to open the door with, so he resorts to smashing the heel of his boot repeatedly into the floor until it gives way. The splintered wood makes a huge crash when it lands at the bottom of the pit, the short amount of time in between its falling and its landing telling Adam that it’s not very deep. It makes sense that it isn’t—what’s the point of a treasure if you can’t even reach it?—but Adam always makes it a policy to check the depth before launching himself into any pits.

He’s not Ronan. Or Noah.

Crouching down to steady himself on the floor with a hand, Adam drops down into the hole. It’s completely dark, but it’s not a big compartment so it doesn’t take him long to bang into the rather large chest sitting at the bottom. Grinning, he squats down to hook his fingers under the chest and heaves. It’s heavier than he expected, he suddenly regrets throwing Ronan to the pirates, but he manages to heft it up above his head enough to set one edge of it on the floor above him.

He then climbs back out of the hole, carefully pushing the treasure out in front of him. When both he and the chest are solidly back on the floor, he looks up to find Ronan standing there, panting heavily and sweaty. He has splatters of blood all over him, but Adam knows none of it is his.

“Parrish you sneaky little bastard,” Ronan mutters lowly, his dark expression sending a tingle of anticipation up Adam’s spine.

Ronan’s eyes are darting back and forth between him and the treasure, and Adam licks his lips as he leans against his spoils, letting a proud and arrogant smirk slip onto his face. “You shouldn’t have let your guard down, Lynch.”

For a moment Ronan just stares at him. Then he’s suddenly launching himself at Adam just as Adam is reaching out for him, the two of them snapping together like magnets. Ronan’s hands cup Adam’s cheeks, the gentleness of his thumbs rubbing along his cheekbones sharply contrasting to the way he’s practically biting Adam’s lips off. Adam kisses him back just as roughly, parting his lips to suck on Ronan’s tongue as he scrapes his fingernails down the other boy’s shaved head.

“You arrogant fuck,” Ronan growls against him, which sounds a little bit too close to _I love you_ , but Adam lets it slide in favor of shoving his hands down Ronan’s tank, feeling up his tattoo and strong shoulder blades.

Adam doesn’t quite remember when or how this part of their little game started, but it is by _far_ his favorite part.

“What the hell was in that hole?” Ronan growls after a moment, breaking off to bite into a well-known sensitive spot between Adam’s shoulder and neck.

He groans, barely even registering the question as he shoves his knee up into Ronan’s crotch. He _loves_ the husky moan that leaves the other boy’s throat when he does. “Treasure.”

“ _No_ , I mean—” And suddenly Ronan is sniffing him, burying his face as far as it can go into Adam’s skin. He shivers from the feeling, somehow aroused and ticklish at the same time. “Was there…fucking _oil_ down there? You reek of it.”

An age-old self-conscious side of Adam rears its ugly head at that comment and he leans back out of Ronan’s touch, suddenly angry and embarrassed. “Well _sorry_ I didn’t take a shower in the two seconds before you jumped on me.”

“God fucking dammit Adam!” Ronan presses his forehead against Adam’s, forcing him to look into his almost too bright gaze. The use of his first name, so uncommon for Ronan, is enough of a shock to keep Adam from pulling away. “I _like_ it, okay? You’re fucking sexy when you smell like oil and grease. Jesus fucking Christ.”

Adam blinks. He definitely hadn’t been expecting _that_ , but he doesn’t necessarily dislike it either. Besides, Ronan always makes a point of surprising Adam – it’s a part of him that Adam finds irresistible. So he just grins, reaching up to twirl a piece of his own hair between his fingers in a way that he knows drives Ronan absolutely crazy. “Is that so?”

“ _Yes_ , it’s fucking ‘so’,” Ronan growls, looking embarrassed, but his eyes are lustful as he drops to his knees in front of Adam, cradling the back of his thighs with his hands. “Now let me give you your reward for beating me, aright?”

Adam shudders, leaning back against the chest for support. “Fucking get on with it, then.”

Ronan mutters something into his thighs that sounds a lot like “I love it when you fucking swear”, but just then the loud sound of boots clomping down the hall makes them both freeze.

“Shit!” Ronan hisses at the same time that Adam whispers, horrified, “It’s Noah!”

They glance at each other, take one last second to kiss each other remorsefully, before springing away.

“Hey guys, Gansey says the ship’s all clear so we can take the treasure—” Noah cuts off as he walks into the room, no doubt taking in their disheveled appearances and seeing right through their attempts to look nonchalant sprawled against and on the treasure chest they were supposed to be stealing. Adam expects Noah to say something, but instead he just grins teasingly before continuing, “Blue’s cranky so I don’t think we should stick around here any longer than we have to.”

Ronan snorts as he hauls himself to his feet. “Sargent’s _always_ cranky – if she’s so impatient, she should come lift this fucking heavy chest herself.”

“You say that, but she definitely _would_ ,” Adam says, making Noah laugh.

Ronan just sneers at him before scuffing the back of his head, his hand lingering there a second longer than normal. “Don’t be a smartass, Parrish.”

Adam, fighting hard to bite back a grin, just winks at him, finding endless amusement in the convoluted expression that twists Ronan’s face then. He’s _way_ too satisfying to tease.

With grunts of effort, Adam and Ronan lift the rather heavy chest between the two of them and slowly follow Noah back out onto the ship deck. Noah’s supposed “job” is to make sure none of the other pirates are awake during their escape, but they never are so really he just uses it as an excuse not to help take the treasure back. “Czerny’s motherfucking stick arms”, as Ronan would say, are rather useless in helping them carry the loot anyway.

When they make it back to the boat, Gansey, Henry, and a pissed-off looking Blue are waiting for them.

“What took you buffoons so long?!” Blue snaps immediately, hands on her hips as Adam and Ronan drop the chest heavily at her feet. “Those goons were _swarming_ us – we could’ve used the backup!”

“But Blueberry, you handled them so well without their help!” Henry says, interrupting Ronan’s no doubt snappy retort as he leans in to tuck a stray strand of her hair back into one of her many neon-colored hairclips. Blue, to everyone’s relief, looks considerably more pleased. “Even better than Three over there, might I add.”

“But I—!” Gansey starts, obviously embarrassed, before thinking better of it and kneeling down in front of the chest. “Let us just see what’s inside!”

Noah takes just a second to pick the lock before leaning out of the way to let Gansey open it. It’s been unspoken agreement for a while now that their captain and king would always be the one to open the chests.  

Inside, the chest is mostly filled with the usual gold coins, pearl necklaces, and rare gems like rubies and emeralds. Those aren’t what they’d been looking for specifically with this mission though, and they have plenty of all of those below deck already, so Gansey shoves them aside rather impatiently as he searches the rest of the chest. For a moment, Adam worries that his information was wrong after all, but no, there it is – an ancient skull, tucked safely in the middle of the rest of the treasure.

Gansey’s face absolutely brightens as he delicately pulls the skull out of the chest, admiring it and turning it every which way. This treasure is purely for the sake of Gansey’s own interests, rather than for money, but all of them had been willing to search so long for it anyway, and just now, seeing the expression on Gansey’s face, Adam thinks that maybe all of that hard work had been worth it.

“Owain Glendower!” Gansey says with awe, and it breaks the spell – all of them seem to sag with relief.

“I can’t believe we actually found it,” Ronan mutters, suddenly standing very close to Adam. “I thought for sure that guy was a myth.”

Henry and Noah both wink in his direction, scarily in sync. Henry is beaming from ear to ear. “Well, now you’ll have to figure out what to wish for, hm?”

It’s a joke, as it had always been established that, if real, the wish would go to Gansey. But Adam can’t help but feel warm at the way Ronan turns to look at him, eyebrows drawn tight, the slightest hint of a smile on his face.

Adam is practical and doesn’t believe in the myth either, but one wish would be nice.

“Good job, men!” Gansey exclaims when he finally wrenches himself from ogling the skull, delighted until Blue kicks him in the ribs with her pointy boots. He winces, reaching down to rub his side before adding, “And Blue.”

“You’d think he’d learn by now.” Blue rolls her eyes at Adam, who snickers in response.

It’s then that Gansey’s eyes land on Adam, and he just stares for a moment before his jaw falls open. Adam can’t even begin to fathom what has him so shocked until he blurts out, aghast, “Adam, did somebody _bite_ you?!”

Noah practically explodes with laughter as Adam just stares at Gansey in confusion. He has absolutely no idea what he’s talking about until he happens to look at Ronan, whose ears are died a bright pink as he pointedly looks elsewhere. It’s only then that Adam realizes what he must be looking at and he blushes profusely, intensely embarrassed.

“Oh! That’s—” He doesn’t know what to say – he and Ronan haven’t been exactly public about their…whatever it is. Nobody knows about it, though Noah and Henry have probably figured it out, and they had planned on keeping it that way. When he still can’t think of an explanation, Adam shoots a panicked glance at Ronan, who’s still not looking at him, before blushing even darker and staring down at his feet as he self-consciously tugs his jacket collar up over the hickey. “No. It’s—no.”

Blue’s eyebrows are to her forehead. She’s looking between Adam and Ronan like she’s finally figured something out, and a pit sinks into Adam’s stomach. “Are you seriously—?”

“What are you going to wish for, Dick?” Ronan asks loudly, violently interrupting and derailing the conversation by squatting down to sling an arm around Gansey’s neck. Luckily, mention of the skull easily distracts Gansey.

But he surprisingly doesn’t answer, just shakes his head and carefully cradles the skull back into the treasure chest. Adam breathes a sigh of relief as the attention leaves him and everyone seems to forget all about his hickey. How could anyone think of anything else, when Gansey’s looking at that skull like something he’s been missing for his entire life has finally fit into place? “I’m going to save it until we need it. If Blue’s mom is right, we may need it fairly soon.”

The words are ominous, but with the success of the day and the soft look on Gansey’s face it somehow feels negligible. Like nothing could possibly touch them now.

Later, after Ronan makes it up to Adam for getting interrupted earlier, Adam traces his fingers down Ronan’s tattoo. Ronan’s lying on his stomach, head notched into Adam’s shoulder, arm slung over his hips, humming contently as Adam rubs his skin. Adam loves Ronan like this; he’s gotten to the point where he can admit he loves Ronan all of the time, but this Ronan is his favorite Ronan. Relaxed, soft, his pointed edges only coming out in his crass and colorful vocabulary, and somehow, unbelievably, as happy as Adam is.

“What would you wish for, if the skull was yours?” Adam whispers, not wanting to break the tranquility by talking any louder.

Ronan turns his head up, a sly grin on his face that Adam wants to kiss off. So he does, leaning down to gently peck his lips, smiling himself when Ronan’s hand moves up to tangle in his hair. Adam had thought earlier a wish would be nice, but lying here, completely tangled with Ronan, he’s starting to think he doesn’t really need one.

He has everything he wants right here.

And because he knows Ronan inside and out, it doesn’t surprise him at all when Ronan presses their foreheads together and says, “That’s for me to know, and for you to never find out.”


	3. Kids in the Park

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> But no matter how Adam blinks and pinches himself, the image stays the same: Ronan Lynch, notorious for underage drinking, swearing loudly, and street racing, is sitting on one end of the seesaw with a pile of young children heaped on the other, trying to budge him to no avail.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I could probably catch up if everything I wrote wasn't over 2000 words, but alas xD;;  
> Warnings for this chapter - there's some pretty heavy descriptions and references to Adam's abuse, so please be aware of this and your own limits as you proceed/decide not to proceed!! ;w;   
> For those who do read, I hope you enjoy and thanks for reading! <3

For Adam Parrish, some days are better than others.

It’s rare for him to have a truly good day, but they aren’t all truly horrible either. Some nights his father comes home, drunk off his ass, but for once in no mood to throw things at him. Those are the nights where he only gets verbal insults, which are arguably worse because the words stick with him, but at least he doesn’t have any markings on his skin to hide. The best days are the ones when Adam manages to escape to his room before his father comes home, and he can use studying as an excuse to stay there, or the nights when he works so late he comes home after his father has gone to bed. He’s had a week long streak of those nights, and for a moment his life seems okay. Not good, but tolerable.

So of course today his shitty life had to throw him a curveball.

Everything had gone wrong. He’d woken up that morning to his father and mother arguing about something, and when he’d tried to sneak out for school his father had thrown beer bottles at his head until one connected with a resounding crash against his temple. He’d blacked out for a moment, and when he’d woken up again it was to his father kicking him in the ribs, yanking at his arms, slapping at his face. Robert called him useless and a coward and told him to man up, but Adam just curled into himself, minimizing the surface area open to damage, and waited for it to end.

When it finally did, he’d gotten out as quickly as he could, sprinting for his bike and pedaling away down the road. He wasn’t going to school—he couldn’t with how horrible his face and body probably looked right now—so he rode to the only place he knew where no one would see him.

Now he sits at a picnic table in the small park near the trailer park, getting started on his essay for English due in two weeks. He loves this place, Cabeswater Park, because no one else seems to realize it exists. He’s often alone, save for the few parents that bring their children, so there’s no one to pity him or see his bruises. It’s his sanction, and he always comes here when things are bad at home or he just needs to focus on studying.

It’s the closest place he has to a real home.

Finding it hard to focus today, even at Cabeswater, Adam shoves his notebook and books back into his bag and trudges over to the swing set. He sits down on a swing and starts pushing himself lazily, a nice breeze brushing his cheeks as he sways. Adam’s built up a rather large resistance to pain, but today seems to hurt worse than usual. He stares blankly down at his arms. He’s dealt with bruises all his life, but he hates this kind especially – the kind that show his father’s fingers, the kind that are less easily explained by saying he fell down the stairs. These are the bruises that give him those looks of pity he hates so much and all of the gentle questions from the counselors if things are alright at home. Of course they’re _not_ , as today showed; besides the time he lost his hearing in his left ear, he doesn’t ever remember blacking out before.

Startling, Adam reaches a hand to feel at his temple. It hurts to touch and he winces, pulling his fingers back to inspect them. They come back clean, but that doesn’t mean there isn’t dried blood caking the spot. He should’ve checked before he left, he has no idea what the state of his face is right now, but he’d been so desperate to get out of there he’d forgotten.

Thank goodness no one else is in the park.

As if to specifically deny him that relief, the sudden sharp cries of young children screeching with laughter jolts Adam out of his thoughts. Startled, Adam turns wide-eyed to stare at the playground, wondering how he could’ve missed a bunch of people coming into the park. What he sees makes him wonder if maybe the blow to his temple had given him brain damage, because he absolutely cannot process the image before him. He blinks several times, just to make sure he isn’t seeing things.

But no matter how he blinks and pinches himself, the image stays the same: Ronan Lynch, notorious for underage drinking, swearing loudly, and street racing, is sitting on one end of the seesaw with a pile of young children heaped on the other, trying to budge him to no avail.

Adam gapes. For a moment he just watches silently in disbelief as Ronan actually _laughs_ before standing up to make it seem like the seesaw lifted him by the strength of the children.

“I’m no match for you guys!” he even hears Ronan saying. “I sure hope I never have to face any of you in a wrestling match.”

That of course sends them all charging at him. There are at least five kids in the stampede, so Adam isn’t even sure it’s faked when Ronan falls to the ground. The rest of his act definitely is, though, as he dramatically puts a hand to his forehead and pretends to swoon. “Oh please, somebody! Somebody help me!!”

The kids are roaring with laughter, and Ronan is wearing the softest smile Adam has ever seen on _anybody_ , let alone wannabe gangster Ronan Lynch; it sends Adam completely reeling. As the pile of kids on top of him grows, Ronan throws his head back against the ground, keeping up his charade of utter defeat. His head is bent back just enough that, too late, Adam realizes that he’s in his line of vision. Before he can move, however, their eyes meet.

Ronan sits up so quickly it’s like he’s been shocked. The kids fall in a heap at his feet but quickly jump on him again, obviously thinking it’s part of the game. Ronan isn’t paying attention to them anymore, however, and Adam tries not to flinch at the look of pure anger on his face. “What the hell are you doing here?!”

Adam thinks this is a weird question to ask, considering that Lynch is the one with a small blonde girl with a skull cap pulled down to her ears hanging over his shoulders giggling. However, it all clicks into place when he realizes the other boy isn’t angry at all – he’s _embarrassed_. Embarrassed at being caught as the big softy he apparently is. Biting back a grin, Adam raises an eyebrow in challenge. “Swinging, obviously. What are _you_ doing here?”

Ronan glares, like the question offends him. Maybe it does. “Babysitting. _Obviously_.”

“I never would’ve pegged you as the kind of guy who enjoys being around small children.” Ronan’s face scrunches together in what looks like confusion. Adam rolls his eyes. “We go to school together. You know, at Aglionby?”

“I know who you are, Adam Parrish,” Ronan says back, and the fact that he actually knows his name surprises Adam so much he almost falls off the swing. “And I never would’ve pegged you as the kind of guy who judges a book by its cover.”

The accusation stings a little bit, but Adam refuses to back down. He can hardly be blamed for being surprised that Ronan Lynch of all people has such a soft side. “I just thought you hated everything except cars, is all.”

Ronan nods for a second, like that’s at all reasonable, before he turns his torso around so Adam can see the face of the blonde girl on his shoulders and squishes her cheeks. “How could you hate a face like this?”

The comment is so surprising that it makes Adam laugh, a short but embarrassingly loud bark that he immediately cuts short. Ronan’s staring at him with wide eyes, which only makes him more embarrassed. He’s about to look away, but suddenly the girl is pulling on Ronan’s ear, making the other boy flinch back. “Ow! What the hell, Opal?”

“Kerah, who’s the pretty boy?” Opal, apparently, whispers into Ronan’s ear, talking so loudly that Adam can hear her anyway.

Ronan smirks, like it’s an inside joke, before cupping a hand around her ear to whisper back, also loud enough for Adam to hear. “That’s Adam Parrish, Aglionby’s very own pretty boy.”

Adam snorts at that, but he’s blushing. No one actually thinks of him that way…right? Especially not someone as sharp and angry as Ronan. He has to just be going along with Opal.

“Can I swing with Adam?” Opal asks, almost shyly.

Ronan pauses for a moment before nodding and fondly pulling her skullcap over her eyes. He then stands and tosses her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, making the girl squeal happily as she pounds on his back with her tiny fists. The other children are clinging onto his legs, forcing him to walk with over-exaggerated steps as he makes his way over to the swing set. Adam can’t help but chuckle at the sight – he wishes he had a phone, just to take a photo. Ronan’s reputation would be ruined forever.

“Wipe that smirk off your face, Parrish,” Ronan snaps, but even that sounds impossibly fond as he carefully sets Opal in the swing next to Adam. Adam doesn’t get the chance to roll his eyes at him before the other kids start tugging on Ronan’s shirt, begging to also be put into the swings.

While Ronan is distracted helping them all up into their own swings, Adam leans down and stretches his hand out to Opal. “I know Ronan already introduced us, but I’m Adam. You’re Opal?”

She nods before shyly putting her tiny hand in his. She seems impossibly fragile as they shake hands, and Adam wonders with a pang of sadness if his parents had ever wondered at how tiny he once was. Probably not – they must have known he wasn’t fragile from how often they tried to break him.

Shaking the negative thoughts from his mind, Adam offers a small smile for Opal. “Do you want me to push you?”

A wide grin slowly stretches onto her face, making her seem wild and free and happy. Adam feels an ache of affection for her in his chest suddenly, and he’s all too eager to hop out of his seat and slowly push Opal up into the air. She lets out little cries of delight as he pushes her, Ronan soon coming over to place another kid—Noah, Adam learns—into the swing Adam had previously been occupying.

For a while they say nothing, just focusing on rotating between the five kids and pushing them into the sky. Adam sneaks glances at Ronan, just to catch him in that incredibly soft expression again, and every time it makes his heart race to find Ronan staring back. This feels like such a special moment, to be allowed to witness Ronan in such a private setting.

“Does anyone else know you do this?” Adam asks, because he has to know. He irrationally wants to be the only person who knows that Ronan can be this caring and gentle.

Ronan purses his lips. “Just my asshole of a brother, Declan. He’s the one who forced me into this job; at first I didn’t want to do it, but…” He stares fondly down at young Noah, who’s smiling and laughing and babbling excitedly to Opal about the possibility of ghosts living in his house. “Well, I guess I got used to it.”

“I’d say it’s a little bit more than ‘getting used to it’,” Adam snorts, and he laughs when Ronan immaturely sticks his tongue out at him.

They swing the kids in silence for a little while, the tranquil quiet soothing for Adam. Silence is always a rarity back at home, and he’s grateful for the quiet now. He doesn’t know how much more he can take of Ronan’s soft smiles and free laughs.

While he’s spacing out, Opal apparently decides she’s getting bored with the same old swinging motion. Wiggling in her seat, Opal tips her head back to beam at Adam. “Push me higher, Adam! I’m going to try and jump off!”

Adam has already set into the pushing motion before he registers what it was that Opal actually said. By the time he does realize it’s too late to stop himself as he pushes her once again. As a reflex, he stretches an arm out for her, suddenly terrified. Ronan will get in big trouble if a kid gets injured under his watch, even if it’s Adam’s fault. “Wait, Opal—!”

But she doesn’t listen to him, and he doesn’t reach her in time before she hops off the swing in midflight. Adam turns away with a flinch, unable to watch, but when he hears the loud thud of her landing he realizes she’s still laughing. Peeling an eye open, he sees that she’s totally fine, having landed on her feet. She runs towards him, her eyes wild with excitement. “Again, Adam, again!!”

Ronan barks out a laugh at Adam’s dumbfounded expression. “Kids are hella resistant, Parrish – I swear they were made to be pushed off playgrounds and swings.”

Adam feels ridiculous – of course. He should’ve known that. He had survived so much as a kid; there was no way Opal would’ve gotten seriously wounded from just that jump. He doesn’t know why he’d been so afraid. Perhaps he was scared of the idea of what it would mean if he’d unknowingly injured a child.

He hears Ronan suck in a breath suddenly and panic strikes him all over again. Perhaps Opal’s injured after all and it had just escaped their notice until she got closer. When he turns to Ronan, however, the boy’s dark gaze is on Adam, not Opal. He realizes too late that Ronan’s staring at his arm that’s still stupidly stretched out in front of him. He quickly drops it to his side and rolls his sleeves down, ashamed and embarrassed. For a moment he’s worried Ronan is going to ask the dreaded questions— _is everything alright at home, Adam? Is someone hurting you, Adam?_ —but what he actually says surprises him, “…It’s chill if you don’t want to talk about it, God knows Dick asks me about every goddamn thing I’ve ever _not_ wanted to talk about, but for what it’s worth I usually take the brats here on Tuesdays and Thursdays. We’ll be here almost all day.”

Adam can’t even believe he’s suggesting what he is. Usually people just ignore his bruises or stare at him with pity and yet refuse to offer any kind of help. Ronan doesn’t give him any of that. He just gives him an opportunity, a chance for some kind of relief if Adam chooses to accept it. He doesn’t even feel like there’s pressure _to_ accept it…it’s just there. It’s more than anyone has ever given Adam before, and he doesn’t know how to handle it.

Eventually he manages to stammer out, “I…I like coming here to study, so…maybe I’ll see you guys.” It’s the best he can offer right now, and to his relief Ronan seems to understand.

They fall into an awkward silence for a moment, neither of them looking at each other. Adam dutifully pushes Opal in the swing so she can jump off again as he wonders what he should say now. He’s irritated that his bruises or his father always have to ruin everything good in his life.

He’s so deep in his thoughts that it startles him badly when Ronan suddenly slaps his own cheeks roughly. Adam just stares at him, dumbfounded, as Ronan turns to stare at him. His eyes are far too bright.

“You know what, fuck it – I’m not babysitting tomorrow, if you’re free,” Ronan says harshly, all in one breath. Adam’s still gaping at him in shock; he’s not sure he’s hearing him correctly, even though his right ear is turned Ronan’s way. “We could go get Nino’s…or something.”

“Are you asking me on a date?” he blurts stupidly, because he can’t comprehend that Ronan Lynch, _raven boy_ Ronan Lynch, wants to take trailer trash Adam Parrish out for pizza.

Ronan looks embarrassed and a little sulky as he kicks at the woodchips and absentmindedly runs his hands through Noah’s blonde hair. “Geez, and here I thought I was being obvious…”

Adam suddenly can’t take it anymore—how can this boy be so impossibly _cute_ —and leans over and kisses him. Ronan seems so surprised that he can’t even respond, so the kiss is brief, but just that winds Adam and he feels like he could run a marathon. “Ronan Lynch, I would love to go get Nino’s or something.”

Ronan still seems like he’s in a state of shock, but slowly a grin grows on his face. It’s embarrassed and shy and unbelievably happy and Adam blushes just looking at it. If someone had told him that morning that he’d be witnessing Ronan smile like the world is off his back for once, he would’ve told them they were a liar. As it is, Adam burns with a desire to make sure Ronan will always be able to smile like that.

Slowly, like he’s not sure he can, Ronan reaches out to grasp Adam’s hand. He brings his hand to his mouth, hesitating for a moment before leaving gentle kisses on every knuckle. Adam’s breath leaves him abruptly when Ronan looks up at him, wonder in his eyes. “…Am I fucking dreaming?”

“Watch your fucking language!” Opal squeaks, startling the both of them. She so obviously picked it up from Ronan that Adam tips his head back and laughs so loudly his lungs hurt.

When he looks at Ronan, Ronan is grinning and looking back, just like he always has been. Adam kisses him again, which Ronan responds to this time, and murmurs against his lips, “I don’t know about you, but I’m absolutely wide awake.”


	4. Still Life of Hands

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ronan looks at models as a project to tackle more than anything else. He doesn’t feel flustered around any of them. He definitely doesn’t raise his hand and request a pose.  
> So why the hell is he doing that now?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Art major Ronan is one of my favorite au versions of him, so I kind of had to for the college prompt xD;; 
> 
> No warnings for this chapter, just a bucket full of appreciation for Adam Parrish's hands *nice emoji*

Being an art student, one would think Ronan would be used to half-naked models by now.

Usually, he is. His figure drawing class brings in a new model every time they meet twice a week, though sometimes they bring back old models if the class is particularly inspired by them. The models are everywhere from female to male to non-binary, and Ronan _had_ thought he’d seen it all. Of course he’s attracted to the male models if they have nice bodies, but usually it’s just a thought. He’ll look up from his notebook, appreciate their body for a second, and then start sketching their muscles, zoning out as he lets his pencil or charcoal do the rest. If Ronan thinks about them outside of his artwork besides that, it’s usually because he feels sorry for them having to sit in weird ass poses requested by the class for what must be two painfully long hours. He looks at them as a project to tackle more than anything else. He doesn’t feel flustered around any of them. He _definitely_ doesn’t raise his hand and request a pose.

So why the _hell_ is he doing that now?

His professor looks surprised – of course she is. Ronan has hardly even spoken in this class, let alone raised his hand. A small smile soon adorns her face however, she has always supported Ronan for whatever reason, and nods in his direction. “Yes, Ronan – go ahead.”

Ronan looks back at their new model and abruptly forgets how to speak.

He doesn’t know if all of the models before _him_ were just shitty or what, but Ronan swears he has never seen a more beautiful human being in his entire life. He has short, dusty hair that falls across his head in what can’t be described as anything but a mess, but it’s a _beautiful_ mess, like fucking movie star hair perfectly tousled by the wind. He has ocean blue eyes that seem to pierce right through him when he turns to look at him, and the utterly bored look on his face just makes Ronan ache more. His face is dotted with thousands of freckles, Ronan would love for an opportunity to count all of them, and his figure is tall and thin. But the part about him that completely floors Ronan is his hands – oh _God_ his _hands_. They’re boyishly big, jutting out from his slender wrists and supporting large knuckles and long fingers. His hands look like he’s been working hard all of his life and Ronan can’t stop staring at them. He wants to kiss those hands – he wants to feel those hands all over his body.

He has never reacted this strongly to a model before. _Ever_.  

No matter where he looks Ronan feels like he’s going to explode. Oh, and did he mention that the guy’s shirt is off? Ronan can’t even begin to describe what the sight of that scarred and muscled chest is doing to him.

“Ronan?” Professor Kawalski’s concerned voice somehow penetrates into his brain, and he realizes with a start that he’s been staring at the model like a love-struck fool for who knows how long instead of requesting his pose.

Cheeks dusting pink with embarrassment, Ronan looks at his notebook in an attempt to escape and clears his throat. “Uh, yeah – could you…”

And he directs the model through the motions. He has the model—Adam, his brain supplies him unhelpfully—sit with his back facing the class, leaning back on his hands. His legs are stretched out in front of him and he tilts his head over his shoulder, looking like someone has just called for his attention. Ronan wants it like that, to seem like they stumbled upon a scene of Adam’s life rather than making it obvious it’s just a figure drawing. And while he laments that he won’t be able to stare at his chest through the whole drawing—someone else will surely request that anyway—he wants, _needs_ , Adam’s hands to be the foreground of the picture.

It wouldn’t be right otherwise.

Once Adam settles into position, his eyes lock with Ronan’s. “Is this right?”

Ronan struggles to swallow through his suddenly dry throat. “Yeah. Perfect.”

The class settles down then to get started on their sketches. Ronan finds that Adam’s shape comes to him effortlessly, little details he’d never bothered to identify on other models popping out at him every time he looks up. It’s a wonder he gets anything done at all, actually, because every time he glances up and stares for just a bit too long, Adam catches him and stares back with what looks like a _smirk_ on his face. Ronan wants to hate him for it, but he loves it instead and he slowly loses his mind as he drowns himself in everything _Adam Adam Adam._

He finds himself adding the smirk on when he gets to his face; it improves the casualness of the pose, he thinks. It looks like Adam was relaxing, and then turned to smirk at someone who just told a dirty joke. Or at least, that’s the scene Ronan is imagining in his head.

While most of the figure itself doesn’t take him too long, Ronan gets caught up in the features that he can’t stop staring at in real life, too. He spends about half an hour just getting his freckles right, dotting them all around his face and on his shoulders. He’s absolutely in love with the freckles on his shoulders. The last hour he spends entirely on Adam’s hands. He draws them with care and affection, adding in every detail he can see. Maybe it’s just an excuse to stare at Adam’s hands (it definitely is), but Ronan’s proud of how it turns out. If someone looked close enough at his drawing, they could see the freckles on Adam’s fingers, the way his large knuckles jut out and give structure to his hand and fingers, that tiny little scar he has on the back of his hand.  

He’s paying more attention to detail than he ever has before. While his classmates request different poses throughout the two hours, Ronan just focuses on his original pose for Adam, using the new poses to add details to it that he couldn’t see before. As he brushes in the way Adam’s hair lazily sprawls along his forehead he wonders what it would be like to draw his fingers through it, if it’s as soft as it looks.

He wonders if he may be idolizing Adam just a bit too much.

“Alright, pencils down!” Kawalski calls, startling Ronan so badly he literally drops his pencil on the ground. Noah, the guy who has sat next to him all semester, snickers at him. Ronan flips him the bird. “Let’s all thank Adam for his patience with us today!”

Adam looks utterly embarrassed as the room is filled with light applause. Ronan wonders if he’s new at modeling or if he’s just like this every time. He wonders which one is more endearing.

As Ronan carefully tucks his notebook into his bag and shoves away all of his pencils and erasers, he wonders if it would be too strange to request Adam back again. Ronan believes he can’t be the _only_ person who was so enthralled with him, so surely the class would back him up if he did…

“Um, hey, Ronan, was it?” a voice says from behind him. When Ronan turns, scowl already sitting habitually on his face, he nearly has a heart attack.

Adam is standing there, right in front of him, within _touching_ distance. Ronan illogically has the urge to pull away, suddenly flustered, but then he realizes: Adam is standing there. Right in _front_ of him. He has a ratty old Coca-Cola shirt on now, Ronan realizes sadly as he stares at Adam like he’s an apparition.

Holy _fuck_.

“Uh?” he says intelligently. He has no grasp of what Adam could possibly want to say to him – how does he even talk to this boy? He can’t very well tell him he’s enjoyed staring at him and imagining him in mildly erotic situations for the last two hours, though that _is_ the truth. Ronan doesn’t lie. He just smartly doesn’t say everything that runs through his head.

“Sorry if this is weird,” Adam says, luckily filling in the conversation for where Ronan failed. “I just…I just really liked the pose you gave me, and I was wondering…if I could see it?”

For a moment, Ronan just stares at him. His immediate reaction is _no_ holy _hell_ Adam can’t see it! Ronan had bared his heart on that damn paper, in that damn sketch, for this damn boy. Just the thought of how Adam would react to seeing Ronan’s attraction and affection puked onto his notebook horrifies Ronan.

And yet, against every instinct and nerve screaming in his body, he pulls his notebook back out of his bag and hands it to Adam. “It’s the one in the back,” he says uselessly, not knowing what else to say. Anything else is too terrifying to bring to life.

Watching Adam flip to the correct page and just stare at his drawing is the most painful thing Ronan has ever experienced in his entire life. And he’s been through hell and back. It’s almost worse that he can’t tell what Adam think is thinking through his expression – it’s irritatingly blank, except for a spark of surprise in his eyes.

“I…I don’t know what to say,” Adam eventually murmurs, and to Ronan’s horror starts flipping through the rest of his notebook.

Shame, embarrassment, and the familiar self-hatred flares to life as one big ball of anger in Ronan’s chest, and he digs his fingernails into his palms to stop himself from lashing out. Gansey and his counselor have helped him get better about non-violent ways to unleash his anger, grief, and other intense emotions—it’s why he got into art in the first place—but having his heart exposed and crushed like this is worse than anything he’s felt recently. Dammit, _this_ is why he had closed up to people after his dad died!

“Sorry it’s so shitty,” Ronan growls, hurt leaking like venom into his voice despite his best efforts. He reaches to grab his notebook back, but Adam quickly tucks it into his chest, like he’s protecting it. Ronan just blinks at him in surprise.

“No, no, it’s not bad, god how could this be—” Adam, seeming to realize that Ronan has no idea what the fuck he’s trying to say, pauses to take a deep breath before staring directly at Ronan and saying, “I didn’t mean to imply that. It’s just that no one’s ever drawn me so, so… _beautifully_ before. Like, you draw me like I’m worth something, like I’m… _lovable._ ”

Ronan doesn’t know what to think – he doesn’t know how to react. On the one hand, he kind of wants to throw his fist into whatever or whoever made Adam feel like he’s worthless and unlovable. On the other hand, Adam, beautiful, freckled Adam just gave Ronan’s sketch the highest possible compliment. On the third hand— _you don’t have three hands_ , Ronan’s brain supplies unhelpfully—Adam apparently saw right through his sketch and to the deepest part of Ronan’s soul.

Ronan’s love for Adam is tangible enough for Adam to notice, and that is the most terrifying thing he has ever heard in his life.

He feels like he needs to blow something up. Set something on fire. Instead he brings his arm up to chew on his leather bands and, pointedly not looking at Adam, says, “I’m just drawing what I see.”

It’s apparently the right thing to say, as Adam’s entire face brightens into a large smile. Ronan passionately wishes he had his notebook back, so he could draw it. “Wow, that’s um…wow. Do you…do you want to go out for coffee sometime?”

If Ronan wasn’t so surprised already, _that_ would’ve sent him falling right off his stool. He’s so in shock that for a moment he’s convinced Adam is messing with him. Why would he have any reason to want to take some crazy artist on a date— _oh God_ —especially one who had just drawn him like he was the most beautiful thing in the entire world? It sounds rather creepy, to Ronan. Against the aching want in his chest, he complains weakly, “You don’t even know me.”

That doesn’t seem to deter Adam in the slightest. “I’d like to.”

Ronan blushes at that, feeling warm and excited and giddy. It’s been a long time since someone has wanted to climb through his spiny walls and get to know him. He hadn’t realized it until now, but maybe he’s been waiting all this time for someone to want to. He can’t help but smile. “If I agree, can I sketch you again?”

Adam tips his head back and laughs, and Ronan wants to sketch him. Again. Jesus, he’s just found his motivation for his next one thousand art projects. Maybe more than that. He wonders if Adam will laugh for him again. If he’ll let him caress his hands.

_Dear God._

“Sure, I’ll even let you pick the pose again, since it’s obviously been your goal all along,” Adam teases, grinning and leaning forward to whisper in Ronan’s ear, “I also do full nudes, if you’re interested.”

Ronan’s spine nearly snaps he sits up straight so hard, blood rushing to both poles making him abruptly dizzy. Holy _fuck_.

“Jesus,” he breathes, embarrassed when Adam pulls back with a snicker. Suddenly he leaps to his feet and practically throws his phone into Adam’s free hand, babbling in a flustered way he didn’t even know possessed him, “Okay listen, fuck, here’s my phone, just put your number in or something and I’ll…I’ll text you. Actually, I hate my phone, so maybe you should text me. I might not reply, but I’ll come whenever and wherever you want to meet – I literally don’t do anything. I just sit in my room and sketch. That’s it. Sometimes my friend Dick bothers me.”

 _Jesus_. He might as well have thrown an _I love you_ somewhere in there.

To his surprise and relief, though, Adam doesn’t seem overwhelmed – if anything, he finds the whole situation amusing, if his wry smirk is anything to go by. Ronan badly wants to kiss him. Fuck this is a mess.

He watches as Adam plugs his contact info into Ronan’s phone before handing it back to him. Then he just stares at him, an eyebrow raised. It takes a few awkward moments of getting lost in Adam’s eyes and knowing absolutely nothing about phone etiquette for Ronan to realize he’s waiting for Ronan to text him so that he’ll have his contact info, too. Feeling like a blundering idiot, Ronan texts him a simple message— _guess who_ —before pocketing his phone again, relieved to get it out of his hands.

Adam pulls out his own phone as he gets the message, and the small smile on his face is worth every moment of suffering in Ronan’s life to get to this point. He spends a few moments editing the info before also pocketing his phone and sending that smile at Ronan. Ronan forgets how to breathe. “Great. You know, I’m actually free now – do you wanna get lunch? There’s a great pizza place not far from campus.”

Ronan would run through hell and back for this boy. _Again._ But he tries to regain some sense of his pride and integrity, so he leans back at his whole height and says nonchalantly, “Fine. Only if you let me drive.”

“Deal.” Adam smiles widely before flipping to another page in Ronan’s notebook and showing it to him. “But first, tell me about this raven.”


	5. I'm Only Sleeping

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first time it happens, Adam thinks it’s some kind of weird fever dream. He lets himself believe that was all it was. 
> 
> Ronan is terrified that someday he’s going to wake up and his dream Adam is going to be lying there right next to him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Seems like some other folks had the same idea as I did when it came to day 5’s dreamscape prompt lol, but hopefully this is different enough that it won’t seem like old hat? XD;;  
> I got carried away with this chapter, even more so than usual omg xD;; I'm also not great at the smuts, but I hope it's at least enjoyable :')  
> Warnings for this chapter include: mature sexual content and some internalized homophobia   
> Title of this chapter comes from the Beatles song, though it doesn't really have any relevance at all. I just love the Beatles lol  
> Hope you guys enjoy, and thanks as always for reading!! <3

The first time it happens, Adam thinks it’s some kind of weird fever dream.

He’d woken up in Cabeswater, or at least what his dream was deciding to call Cabeswater, to find Ronan crouched by a small pond. There were a couple of swans in the pond, and they were eagerly nibbling bread crumbs out of Ronan’s outstretched palm. Adam remembers being completely floored by the soft look on Ronan’s face as he gently reached out to stroke the swans’ necks, smiling when they didn’t swim away from him. It was the same look he had on his face when he cradled Chainsaw in his hands or listened to the heartbeats of baby mice, and it took Adam’s breath away.

“Ronan…” he found himself murmuring aloud, not sure if he was going to actually say anything more or if it just came out on an exhale of his affection.

Whatever the reason, it startled Ronan enough that he jolted and scared the swans away, the birds honking in alarm as they swam to the other side of the pond. Ronan looked irritated for a brief second before he stood and shoved his hands into his pockets as he made his way closer to Adam.

“Hey Adam,” he said quietly, softly. It was so unexpected that Adam could only stare at him. He could count on one hand the number of times Ronan had called him by his first name, and he had _never_ said it quite like that, so, so… _lovingly_.

Adam had to remind himself that this was a dream as his heart began beating erratically in his chest.

“What are you doing here?” he managed to ask.

Ronan shrugged before looking back at the pond. “Dunno. Befriending the swans.” He turned back to Adam and fixed him with an intense gaze, so many emotions swimming in his eyes that Adam couldn’t even begin to pick them apart. “Thinking of you, apparently.”

Adam nearly staggered backwards, mowed over by the weight of that confession. He wasn’t used to a Ronan that was so open like this. He wondered if Ronan was truly like this before his dad died or if Adam just had an overactive imagination.

Ronan suddenly stepped closer, and Adam held his breath. He was strangely eager and afraid of what was going to happen next, but he _wanted_ it. He suddenly wanted with a burning clarity for Ronan to touch him. Ronan’s expression was dark as he gently reached out, millimeters away from Adam. “I know I shouldn’t touch you, but…”

Adam wasn’t entire sure what he meant by that—did he think Adam would break if he touched him?—but all thoughts abruptly left his head as Ronan carefully grasped his hand, drawing it up to his mouth to leave soft kisses on his knuckles. Adam couldn’t breathe; what was happening?!

_It’s just a dream_ , his brain told him, and just with that gentle reminder Adam decided he didn’t need to hold anything back.

As Ronan kissed his fingers, he drew his other hand up to rub over Ronan’s shaved scalp, marveling at the softness of his fuzzy hair under his palm. He couldn’t remember ever having a dream with so much detail before, but he was grateful for it, grateful for the opportunity to feel and experience this.

“God, _Adam_ ,” Ronan moaned, and it sent shivers down Adam’s spine. He wished he could always hear Ronan say his name like that, preferably in the waking world too.

Tracing his fingers down to Ronan’s jaw, he drew Ronan’s head up so that he could lean down and snatch his lips between his own. The kiss was soft, tentative, everything Adam _hadn’t_ expected a kiss with Ronan Lynch would be. But he loved it, loved the way Ronan’s hands came up to cradle his cheeks and stroke his skin with his thumbs, loved the way Ronan stepped closer to press their bodies flush together. Adam wrapped his arms around Ronan’s neck, clutching desperately at his back, and kissed him with everything he had.

This was dangerous, unreal, but it was the best Adam had felt in a _long_ time.

After a moment, Adam parted his mouth and licked along Ronan’s lower lip, craving more. Ronan opened instantly for him and their tongues clashed together in a passionate battle that made Adam dizzy. Eventually Adam won, sneaking his tongue into Ronan’s mouth to explore. It was worth everything as Ronan moaned again and pressed into him, his hands moving up to tangle desperately in Adam’s hair.

Adam tried to take his time as he explored Ronan’s mouth, but he was needy, desperate. He wanted Ronan’s hands and mouth all over his body. Besides, Ronan tasted a little bit like beer, and while it was so undeniably _Ronan_ that it was a bit of a turn-on, it also reminded him of other things he didn’t want to think about right now. Adam had learned from Ronan that thinking in a dream was dangerous, so for once he turned his brain off and abruptly shoved his hands up under Ronan’s shirt.

Ronan let out a little squeak of surprise—Adam wanted to tease him about that, until he remembered that this was just a dream—before breaking off so he could rip his tank off over his head. He tossed it to the side, and Adam laughed as it fell into the swan pond.

“It’s going to be unpleasant to put that back on,” he teased as he leaned forward to mouth at Ronan’s throat.

“Shut the fuck up,” Ronan growled, but it was garbled as his breath audibly hitched when Adam gently scraped his teeth along his Adam’s apple. “God fucking _dammit_.”

Adam laughed again before his brain caught up to the fact that Ronan was an inch away from him, now _shirtless_. He drew back a little to admire the view, tracing his hands along the dips and curves of Ronan’s muscles. He’d always known he was muscular, but _damn_ …

Adam wondered if he should be concerned that he apparently spent this much subconscious thought wondering what Ronan looked like without his shirt on.

“Hey, it’s not fair that you’re the only one who gets to ogle.” Ronan suddenly drew closer to him again, his fingers dancing along the edges of Adam’s shirt. Instead of just ripping it off of him, like Adam had worried he would do, Ronan pressed his mouth against Adam’s hearing ear and whispered, “Can I?”

Adam swallowed thickly, suddenly self-conscious. He had never liked looking at his body, he _hated_ seeing all of the scars and bruises that littered his skin on a daily basis, but Ronan had sounded like he was _begging_. Like Adam letting him take his shirt off was a privilege he badly wanted to be bestowed.

It was fucking weird, but kind of poetic, so Adam slowly nodded and raised his arms above his head.

Ronan carefully drew his shirt over his head, folding it up and neatly placing it on the grass at their feet, treating it with considerably more care than he had his own shirt. Adam suddenly felt a fierce love for him for it, and he touched at Ronan’s shoulders again. He found endless amusement in the fact that Ronan couldn’t seem to take his eyes off his chest, even if it was kind of messed up that Adam dreamed him to be that way, and his breath hitched as Ronan started slowly tracing his fingers up and down his skin.

Adam wasn’t by nature a loud person, so Ronan was only getting his increasingly stuttered panting and his fingers digging into his shoulders as encouragement, but luckily Ronan seemed to understand it anyway. He traced patterns over his skin, mouthed at all of his scars and bruises and freckles. At one point he accidentally nosed against Adam’s nipple, making him gasp loudly, the loudest he’d been so far.

He felt Ronan grin against his ribs before he was suddenly moving up to wrap his tongue around the sensitive bud.

Adam’s knees buckled from the gasping pleasure of it, causing them to both tumble backwards, Ronan falling heavily on top of him. Adam was winded for a moment as Ronan hurriedly sat off of him, looking at him in worry. “Shit! Sorry, you okay?”

But Adam was laughing, breathless and weirdly _happy_ as he cupped Ronan’s cheeks in his hands, pulling him forward to kiss him.

“I will be, once you get back to it,” he teased, grinning at Ronan. The other boy just stared at him for a moment before grinning back, a feral thing that made Adam’s heart stutter as Ronan got to work exploring his chest again.

Adam felt utterly exposed like this, but for the first time it was okay. He felt safe, with the grass of Cabeswater rustling against his back and cheeks and Ronan’s careful touches and kisses tracing every inch of his body. He sat up slightly so he could reach for Ronan, drawing him into another passionate kiss. He didn’t know when he was going to wake up, but he wanted to make the best of this while he could, in case something like this never happened again.

Ronan’s eyes were a sea of emotion as they broke apart and he gently pressed their foreheads together. Adam stroked his cheek, staring in wonder at the sharp lines of his jaw.

“I wish I could tell you how much I love you,” Ronan whispered, and Adam almost cried.

This was unfair. This was _so_ unfair. Why did his brain have to taunt him like this? This wasn’t real. _None_ of this was real.

…But that didn’t mean he couldn’t enjoy it, did it?

So he just leaned into Ronan, nosing at his skin, smelling his musky scent. He felt dangerous and narcotic, flirting with a dream, but he went ahead and said it anyway, “You can, if you want to. I might love you back.”

Ronan’s breath hitched as Adam left a kiss on the shell of his ear. “God, fuck you.”

And Adam laughed again, enjoying this maybe just a bit too much.

He let Ronan explore his chest for a little while longer before the tightness in his pants became too much, and he bucked under him weakly. Ronan looked surprised, like maybe he’d thought just shirts off was all he was going to get. Adam didn’t know how his own dream was surprised with him, but he didn’t spend much time thinking about it.

“You…you want me to…?” Ronan gaped and Adam rolled his eyes.

“Is it really that surprising?” Realizing that Ronan wasn’t going to move anytime soon, Adam took it upon himself to shimmy out of his pants, tossing them over to where his shirt still sat on the ground. He propped himself on his elbows and raised a challenging eyebrow at Ronan. “You joining me, or what?”

Ronan’s jaw was slack as he just stared at Adam wearing nothing but his boxer briefs. Adam rolled his eyes again, but inside he was burning. He loved how much this Ronan seemed to love and admire him, but he was torn between wanting to appreciate Ronan’s gaze and wanting his hands back on his body.

“…Hold on,” Ronan eventually said, voice thick. Before Adam knew what was happening, Ronan was leaning down to nestle his head into the space between his legs, licking long stripes up his thighs.

Adam gasped and wiggled, bucking his hips wildly. This tickled and felt good, but _goddamn_ Ronan Lynch was a tease. Or at least dream Ronan was. Ronan’s hands tucked themselves behind his thighs, holding him in place as he licked and nibbled at his skin. Adam scratched his fingernails into Ronan’s scalp, desperate for something to hold onto. Ronan’s head accidentally knocked into his dick, and Adam let out a strangled cry.

Holy _fuck_.

This was so wrong. This was the kind of dream he should be ashamed of having, especially when sleeping in a church. _Especially_ when the church was the one Ronan went to. This felt like taking advantage of Ronan, and Ronan was his _friend_ – this was weird. But Adam couldn’t think about that. He couldn’t think about anything. He couldn’t even find it in himself to be embarrassed at the way he was bucking into Ronan’s face, desperate for some kind of relief.

All Adam knew was the feeling of Ronan’s mouth on his thighs and the mad whispering of Cabeswater in his deaf ear.

When he woke up, he had a painfully hard erection and a whole plethora of new subjects to overthink about.

For a while, Adam _didn’t_ think about it. He’d written it off as a weird ass dream, one stemmed from his low self-esteem and built up frustrations. It had just happened to be Ronan because Adam hung out with him a lot and Ronan often laid down by his bed until Adam fell asleep. God, thank everything Ronan hadn’t been sleeping on his floor during _that_ dream. He wouldn’t have known how to explain it, his weird hormone-induced wet dream.

For a while, he let himself believe that that was all it was.

And then the dreams started occurring more often. They happened again and again until Adam now wakes up with an erection more often than not, and it’s horrifying. Every night they happen he wakes up feeling wonderful, ashamed, and abundantly confused. _This_ is not how friends treat friends. Having to jerk himself off in the bathroom every other night because he just had an erotic dream about his friend is weird, creepy.

Adam doesn’t know what to do about them. He’s taken sleep medication, slept in different positions, moved his bed around to work with feng shui, everything. Nothing works, except for the fact that he often doesn’t sleep much anyway. Actually, the weirdest thing is that the dreams have started occurring at regular patterns. Every three days, usually. Sometimes the pattern breaks, but for the most part Adam can catch a few hours of peaceful sleep for two days and then have another dream the third.

It has started becoming something he plans for, a weird and fucked up schedule he keeps unnecessarily complete track of. He even has a calendar hidden under his mattress, where he writes it down every time it happens. Adam Parrish, ever the scientist, wants to figure out what’s going on the methodical way.

Not that it helps any. He still has the dreams.

It’s hard to look at Ronan sometimes, knowing what his dreams had been like the night before. He’s not exactly ashamed that he apparently _very much_ likes Ronan in that way, but it’s embarrassing and it feels wrong, somehow. Like he’s taking advantage of his friend by dreaming about him in erotic situations so often.

When he catches Ronan looking at him sometimes, Adam is terrified that he’s somehow found out. After all, Ronan seems awkward around him nowadays too – it isn’t an obvious thing, if anything Ronan has mastered the art of never revealing his true feelings and intentions, but it’s in the way Ronan seems to hesitate before touching him now, when he’d never had problems with it before. It’s in the way he’ll catch Ronan staring at him before he quickly looks away and pretends that Adam doesn’t exist for the next two hours. It’s in the way that sometimes, they’ll just be talking when Ronan abruptly stands up and shuts himself in his room, like he can’t stand being around Adam anymore.

It hurts, and Adam wonders if maybe it _is_ disgusting that he dreams of Ronan so much like _that_. But then he tells himself that there’s no way Ronan could know about that, that it must be because of something else. It doesn’t make him feel any better, though – at least the weird dreams are a justifiable reason for Ronan to be avoiding him.

But no matter what the reason, Adam has decided not to act on his crush in the real world. He’s too scared of rejection, of losing Ronan completely.

For now, being his friend and having rather erotic dreams about him are enough.

 

\--

 

Ronan is terrified that someday he’s going to wake up and his dream Adam is going to be lying there right next to him.

Currently, it’s his worst fear. Night terrors trying to kill him? He’s used to that. Weird dream objects/creatures that he can’t explain? All his friends know of his dreaming prowess now, so no problem. Dreaming up a second Adam Parrish and having to figure out a way to get rid of him _and_ explain him to the real Adam Parrish?

Impossible. Terrifying. Not something he ever wants to have to deal with in a thousand lifetimes.

Luckily, so far Ronan has managed to keep dream Adam a dream. He always goes into the dream knowing he shouldn’t touch him, just in case it’s the one day he runs out of luck, but things always escalate out of hand. He has trouble _not_ touching Adam. That first time, when he’d gotten to take his shirt off and lick and nibble at his skin? He’s addicted to it now; he wants to see it, touch it, feel it every time he goes in.

It’s overwhelming. He goes in, gets blown out of his mind (both figuratively and literally), and then wakes up either with a raging hard-on or cum splattered all over his boxers. He’s constantly afraid Gansey is going to notice him when he hobbles into the kitchen/bathroom/laundry, though it hasn’t happened so far. He’s mortified of the thought that Gansey can probably hear him through the walls when he has to jerk off, and almost the entire time he’s in there he’s cursing out Gansey’s insomnia and his stupid fucking dreams for putting him in this mess.

He doesn’t know what to do. This isn’t what normal people do. This isn’t how normal people think of their friends.

_I might love you back,_ dream Adam had said, that first time.

_Jesus Christ_. Ronan’s dreams are horrible, unbearably teasing. Like Adam fucking Parrish would ever say that to him.

The worst part is that the dreams won’t _stop_. Ronan had hoped it would be a one-time thing, but nope – almost every time he falls asleep now he finds Adam somewhere in the dream. He tries to stay away, but it never works; he’s attracted to Adam like a magnet, and no matter what he does they always end up together in the grass, under trees, in that fucking pond once.

He hates it. He feels like he’s taking advantage of Adam. He feels so fucking good in his dreams, when he can pretend Adam’s in love with him and everything is perfect, and then he wakes up with the brutal and cruel reminder that, for once, _it’s just a dream._

He already knows Adam is straight – why do his dreams have to rub in the fact that he can never have him in real life? It’s _torture_.

As a solution, a very _shitty_ solution but it’s the only thing Ronan can think of, Ronan sleeps as little as possible. It’s not like he sleeps that often anyway, but now he has yet another reason for why he shouldn’t go to sleep. It’s kind of sad, really – he’s finally over his nightmares, but now he can’t go to sleep for another reason.

It’s impossible to stay awake all the time, though, and Ronan usually collapses every third day. And of course, as soon as he falls asleep, he’s right back in Cabeswater, making love to Adam.

It’s horrible—well, it’s _great_ , but it’s horrible how great it is—and embarrassing. It’s downright pathetic, really; how is he such a loser that the only way he can apparently deal with his need for Adam is by dreaming up a replica of him and messing around with him in his dreams? It’s disgusting. Ronan’s disgusting.

He feels ashamed every time he catches Adam looking at him in the real world. Why does he have to be so fucking messed up?

If his friends notice his even worse sleeping schedule than usual, they kindly don’t say anything. Gansey’s used to it, so maybe he just straight up hasn’t noticed that Ronan spends more time with him in the evenings, that some days he’s so tired he nearly falls over when he tries to move. It’s a blessing, because if Gansey noticed he’d be all over Ronan in a second, chiding him and forcing him to go to sleep.

And Ronan _really_ doesn’t want to go to sleep.

It’s wearing him down, though. It’s only the second day of no sleep now when Ronan falls face down onto the floor after barely having the energy to stumble to the kitchen/bathroom/laundry. Chainsaw lands on his head, cawing loudly at him in urgency, but he can’t do anything but focus on fighting to keep his eyes open. His limbs feel heavy and his head is throbbing but he can’t go to sleep, he has to stay awake, awake, awake…

“Ronan?!” Gansey shouts, thankfully startling Ronan enough to prevent him from falling asleep right then and there. His friend is kneeling beside him, hands hovering over him like he’s afraid to touch him. Ronan really owes him for the amount of times he’s put him through this type of situation. “Christ, Ronan, what happened?!”

“’M fine,” he stutters as Gansey seems to come to the same conclusion. He reaches down to hoist Ronan to his feet. Ronan can barely stand – his head lolls onto Gansey’s shoulder as his friend drags him to his room. “Dick…don’t let me fall asleep…”

“Are your nightmares back?” Gansey asks, concerned. Ronan doesn’t know how to tell him that it’s something worse than that. “Ronan, you need to sleep.”

“It’s only been two days…” Ronan complains, but his body doesn’t listen to him as Gansey gently drops him onto his bed. Instead it sinks into the mattress, warmth and comfort fighting to send him to sleep. “No…”

“It’ll be fine, Ronan.” Gansey pats him on the shoulder, but Ronan is already falling into unconsciousness.

_You don’t understand._

When he opens his eyes, he’s in Cabeswater. The forest is murmuring softly today, though Ronan can’t pick out any words, and for a moment he thinks everything is okay. That this might not be one of those dreams this time.

He shouldn’t have thought it, though he isn’t sure if that would’ve changed the outcome or not anyway. When he turns around, he groans internally.

_Christ not again_ , Ronan thinks as he sees Adam sitting against a tree with his eyes closed, head leaned back casually on the bark. He turns around and walks in the other direction, but through the magic and annoying meddling of Cabeswater, that direction leads to Adam, too.

Ronan stays where he is and slaps his cheeks. _Please wake up…_

Unfortunately, it doesn’t work. Even more unfortunately, the slapping attracts Adam’s attention and he opens his eyes. When their gazes meet, Adam’s face lights up into a small smile. Ronan wonders what would make the real Adam smile like that

“Ronan,” he says, in that unbearably soft voice, and Ronan is done for.

He walks over to Adam and sits down next to him, resting his back against the tree. Adam lolls his head onto his shoulder and, heart pounding, Ronan wraps an arm around him. For a moment they just sit there quietly, enjoying the breeze on their skin and listening to the strange birdsong that occasionally erupts from the trees. Ronan silently points out a rainbow moose that strolls through the trees and admires the tiny content smile on Adam’s face.

For a relieved moment, Ronan thinks that’ll be it. That this won’t turn into something else and he doesn’t have to feel bad about himself this time.

But then Adam is tilting his head up, pressing open-mouthed kisses to Ronan’s throat. Ronan swallows thickly, already trembling. He’s learned over the weeks that he’s been having these dreams that he absolutely _loves_ when Adam does that to him.

Right now, though, he wishes he didn’t.

“Adam…” Ronan murmurs, and he almost asks him if he thinks this is weird. But of course he doesn’t – Adam is a dream, more than likely created by Ronan’s subconscious to do and say whatever he wants him to do. That is so fucking messed up; Ronan _never_ wants to take Adam’s autonomy away like that.

He takes small comfort from the fact that this is at least all inside his head.

Adam is suddenly pushing him lightly to the ground, hovering over him. His eyes are bright and his freckles prominent and Ronan aches. Dammit, why can he never deny dream Adam when he’s looking at him like that?

When Adam leans down to kiss him, Ronan meets him halfway. He reaches up to tangle his fingers through Adam’s hair, pulling him closer so he can gnaw on his lips, in the way he knows dream Adam likes. Ronan moans as Adam’s tongue plunges down his throat and he moves his hands down so he can sneak them up under Adam’s shirt, gently caressing his lithe back muscles.

It doesn’t take them long to get their clothes off, they’ve done this so often. Adam is beautiful, as always; Ronan takes his time, kissing and rubbing his fingers along Adam’s skin. He forgets all about this not being real as Adam bites into the base of his neck, right in a sensitive spot that makes Ronan arch his back and let out a strangled moan. Adam sucks on the spot, abusing it to the point that it has Ronan panting as he leaves hot, messy kisses on Adam’s deaf ear.

God, _fuck_ , he will definitely be going to hell for this.

Eventually Adam’s hand travels downwards, grasping Ronan in his palm. Ronan has enough fantasies of Adam’s hands to last a lifetime, even without this, and yet just the simple touch still almost makes him cum right there. He realizes what Adam’s about to do, but suddenly he doesn’t want it to end so quickly. He’ll hate himself even more, but now that he’s here he wants to spend as much time with Adam like this that he’s allowed to.

He almost _always_ wakes up when he cums, after all.

“W-wait,” Ronan forces out, barely able to even breathe through the pleasure of Adam’s hand on his sensitive skin. Adam’s eyebrow is raised in question as Ronan sits up and props Adam sitting upright against the tree and settles in between his legs. “Lemme do you first…”

Adam rolls his eyes, but his smile is fond as he rubs his palms through Ronan’s buzzed scalp. “You’re so needy.”

It’s a joke, but Ronan feels bad about it anyway. He really is, isn’t he? In all of the wrong and unhealthy ways, too.

But he doesn’t spend too much time thinking about it, because Adam’s cock is _right there_ , and Ronan _always_ loves sucking him off. So he leans down and wraps his lips around Adam’s head. Adam gasps, arching into him and scratching his fingernails along Ronan’s head. Ronan loves the feeling of Adam in bliss, so it only edges him on, sucking his way down until he has all of Adam’s length in his mouth.

“ _Ronan_ ,” Adam moans, clawing desperately at his skin. Ronan hums, which only makes Adam gasp out again.

He’s never very loud, so it’s _extremely_ satisfying for Ronan to get him to fall apart so completely he forgets about being quiet.

Adam bucks into him, and Ronan lets him fuck his mouth as he swallows around his length. It’s only because they’ve done this so often that he can do it now – the first time he’d blown Adam, he’d choked when Adam had bucked into him. Adam had apologized and Ronan had felt embarrassed, so for a while Ronan had held Adam’s hips down to prevent the same thing from happening again.

But he’s gotten better with practice, and now he can take Adam thrusting into him. He loves it, even, how wild Adam gets like this. So he continues humming against Adam’s skin as Adam bucks into him, his one hand stroking along Adam’s thigh and the other caressing his balls. He loves feeling so connected to Adam, and he aches with the longing to have this all of the time, with the real Adam.

Ronan can feel when Adam’s about to go over the edge, and he sucks him through his orgasm as Adam cums into his mouth with a small groan. Ronan’s gotten good at this part too, and he swallows him fully without even gagging.

When Adam’s spent he sags against the tree, gasping for breath. Ronan sits up, wipes the cum and spittle from his mouth, also panting hard. God, he loves the taste of Adam. Adam probably doesn’t actually taste like this, but he tastes _great_ in Ronan’s dreams.

As Adam recovers, Ronan gets to work cleaning him off, using his thumb to wipe off the dribbles of cum on Adam’s dick that had escaped him. Adam’s dick twitches under his touch, and Ronan smirks at him, feeling cocky and shy at the same time. Adam rolls his eyes at him, but he looks happy. God Ronan loves him. He sits up on his knees to cradle Adam’s cheeks in his hands, but the look Adam levels him then tells him he’s in no mood to be gentle anymore. Ronan barely has the time to be aroused before Adam tackles him, wrestling him to the ground. He doesn’t fight back—why would he?—and instead rests his hands on Adam’s hips, rubbing his hipbones with his thumbs.

“Are you going to let me take care of you now?” Adam asks, grinning as he leans over Ronan again. Ronan nearly whimpers. He doesn’t trust himself to speak, so he just nods eagerly.

He sees stars when Adam grasps him again, moaning sharply as his rough thumb runs along his head. Adam’s gotten a lot of practice in with this too, or at least Ronan assumes it’s the same Adam every time, so his hand moves swiftly and deftly along Ronan’s cock, taking the time to rub along his vein as he goes.

“ _F-fuck!_ ” Ronan gasps, arching into Adam’s hand. He almost begs for more, but it turns out he doesn’t need to – Adam just seems to know as he starts pumping him faster and harder. Broken curses fall out of Ronan’s mouth as he thrusts in time with Adam’s rhythm, desperate for the contact, desperate for relief, hungry, hungry, _hungry_ —  

Ronan wakes up right as he hits his climax, unleashing his load into his boxers. He’s crying as he slams his fist over and over again into his pillow. He wants to scream. He wants to burn something. He hates himself more than he ever did before. He’s a fucking creep who dreams about one of his best friends giving him a hand job, what the _fuck_ is wrong with him?!

“God fucking _dammit!!_ ” he growls, slamming his fist into his pillow one more time before rolling onto his back and covering his face with his hands. He _hates_ this. Why can’t he have normal dreams like a normal person?

Why did he have to fall in love with Adam Parrish?

 

\--

           

Adam’s sure he would’ve gone on denying it all forever if he hadn’t noticed something that tipped his entire world upside down.

They’re at Monmouth Manufacturing the next day when Adam happens to look over at Ronan lying on the floor, eyes closed and headphones strapped to his head, and notices _it_.

Adam does a double take. He blinks once, shakes his head, looks again. But nope, it’s still there – a huge hickey right on the base of Ronan’s neck. Adam’s heart sinks, though at the same time he has the irresistible urge to tease him. The fact that Ronan has a secret girlfriend or boyfriend or whatever is hilarious, but it’s also crushing in the fact that Adam has absolutely no chance. He had no chance before, not that he would’ve taken it even if he had, but to know Ronan is absolutely off limits hurts, like all of the breath is being forcibly squeezed out of his lungs.

It also makes him feel even worse about the fact that he’s _still_ dreaming about him.

Last night’s dream had been… _amazing_. Adam had woken up crying and covered in his own cum because he had felt wonderful and known and loved and knew that it wasn’t real. That Ronan would never feel the same way as his dream Ronan, that real Ronan would never touch him like he’s something special and worth cherishing. Adam would never know what it really felt like to have Ronan’s feather light kisses on his hands; Adam would never be able to run his hands along Ronan’s muscled back or suck a hickey into the base of his neck…

…Wait a minute. The base of his neck?

Adam stares intently at Ronan’s hickey again. He has to be imagining things…but _no_ , he remembers vividly – that is the exact same place he sunk his teeth into Ronan in his dream. It has to be a coincidence…

…doesn’t it??

Standing up abruptly and startling Gansey out of whatever he’d been rambling about, Adam trudges over to Ronan with barely concealed panic. Still, he knows very well how badly it would go confronting him about his hickey in front of Gansey, so Adam plays it off nonchalantly, a tactic he picked up from Ronan, and says, “Hey Lynch, you were going to show me your latest dream gadget, weren’t you?”

Ronan stares at Adam like he’s lost his mind, and Adam begs him with his eyes to understand. Eventually he uncurls himself from the floor and stands, his eyes never leaving Adam’s. “…Oh yeah, my idea for waking the cows, right? It’s in my room.”

Adam breathes a sigh of relief that he understood as he follows Ronan into his room. Before they can disappear entirely though, Gansey perks up and starts to stand. “Oh, you had an idea, Ronan? I suppose I can understand why you wouldn’t tell me until Adam was here, but I’d love to see it—”

“Fuck off Gansey.” And Ronan slams the door in his face.

Adam has to cover his mouth to stop himself from laughing outright. “That was mean, Lynch.”

Ronan rolls his eyes. “You were the one who wanted to be so secretive – blame yourself for coming up with that shitty excuse.” He tosses himself onto his bed, lying on his back with his arms crossed behind his head. Chainsaw flies in from the open window and lands on his forehead, tucking her beak into her wing as if she’s about to go to sleep. Ronan’s eyes are closed too, and yet Adam still feels like he’s staring at him when he says, “So what’s up, Parrish? Why all the sneaking around?”

Adam’s mirth fades as he remembers what he’d wanted to ask him about. He’s dying to know, but now that he’s here this all seems like a terrible idea. Ronan’s going to think he’s crazy; he probably just has a secret partner somewhere who just happened to bite him in the same place Adam had in his dreams.

It’s a terrible idea, and yet Adam finds himself asking anyway, “I wanted to ask you where you got that hickey.”

Ronan’s eyes fly open at that as he sits up so violently he nearly propels Chainsaw across the room. The raven caws at him in irritation before flapping over to her cage, settling down on her perch and ruffling her feathers irritably. Ronan is staring at him with wide eyes, irritation and something else on his face making Adam look away. Still, he taps his own neck where Ronan’s hickey is, feeling like an absolute fool.

This was a _stupid_ idea.

Ronan’s hand grasps at his own neck, rubbing around until he finds the hickey there. Adam watches him breathe shakily out his nose before his eyes narrow in a piercing glare. “…That’s none of your fucking business.”

Adam realizes with intense embarrassment that there’s no way to find out about this unless he tells the truth. It will end _so_ badly if he’s wrong, but he doesn’t have a choice.

He _needs_ to know.

“I had a dream that you gave me a blow job,” he blurts out and immediately blushes – god he sounds so stupid. Ronan’s eyes just grow wider, but Adam ignores him and continues, “I gave you a hand job afterwards, but the point is I gave you _that_ —” he points wildly at the hickey, “—last night. In a dream. Which means…which means it was…it was _real_.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about…” Ronan says, but he looks like a caged animal, standing up off the bed and keeping his distance from Adam.

Adam takes a step closer. He’s freaking out too, but he needs Ronan to _cooperate_ ; he wants to believe he doesn’t know what he’s talking about, but he thinks he’s just conveniently hiding the truth. “We were in Cabeswater. I was sitting against a tree when you showed up, and we sat there for a little while listening to the birdsong. You pointed out a rainbow moose to me. And then I kissed you—”

“Holy shit!!” Ronan interrupts, and Adam realizes he’s finally gotten through to him. He looks mortified as he takes a shaky step back from Adam, crashing into an abandoned stack of books and nearly toppling over. “But I…you…I thought I dreamed you…! How the fuck were you in my dream?!”

Adam shrugs helplessly. His brain is unhelpfully supplying him with everything that he and Ronan have done to each other in the last couple of weeks and he suddenly wants to jump out the nearby window. “I don’t know, maybe my connection with Cabeswater pulled me into your dream?”

But Ronan isn’t listening to him anymore; instead, he collapses on his bed, rocking slowly as he covers his face with his hands. “Oh God, oh _fuck_ …”

It doesn’t really sink in for Adam until he witnesses Ronan’s mild panic attack what this exactly _means_. That all of those times he had flirted with Ronan, touched him, sucked him off – all of that was _real_. None of it had been due to Adam’s active imagination. All of those times Ronan had said he _loved_ him…

…Oh _shit_. This is real, isn’t it?

All along, he’s been interacting with the _real_ Ronan, touching him, talking with him, loving him. And all along Ronan has been responding with what he really thinks, how he really feels.

It’s suddenly too much to handle.

Adam sits heavily on the other side of Ronan’s bed, dazed and in shock. Where do they go from here? What the hell is he even supposed to _say_? Do?

“Uh—” Adam says at the same time that Ronan blurts out, “So you really—?”

They both stop, waiting for the other to continue. Adam gestures at Ronan to go on, because he really has no idea what he was going to say anyway. Ronan swallows thickly before lifting an arm to chew on his leather bands and rubbing his other hand over his buzzed head. “So you really…God, how the fuck do I say this? You really… _like_ me?”

Adam can’t help but bark out a laugh and then feels bad about it when an angry, dejected scowl appears on Ronan’s face. On impulse, he reaches out and takes Ronan’s hands in his. They feel exactly the same as they did in his dreams. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to laugh – I just thought it was obvious. I’ve liked you for a long time, Ronan.”

Ronan doesn’t seem to be able to handle this piece of information, as he immediately starts babbling, “God, _God!_ I thought all this fucking time that I was some disgusting piece of shit for like dreaming you up and then doing all of that with you, it felt like I was making you like me and do stuff you wouldn’t want to do in real life and _God_ …”

Adam frowns at the self-hatred bubbling in Ronan’s words and his tone, but before he can say anything Ronan glances up at him shyly before looking away again. “Besides, I thought you liked girls?”

“I like girls and boys,” Adam says, as it’s easier to respond to than everything else he’d said. He’s honestly a little surprised, that Ronan had felt as weird about it as he had. He squeezes Ronan’s palms. “I thought all of that too. Like I was taking advantage of you, making you like me. Because really, why _would_ you…?”

Ronan is suddenly staring at him, fierce and loyal and… _affectionate?_ “Don’t you even start, Adam Parrish – you deserve all of the love in the entire goddamn world and your parents are stupid fucks for not realizing that.”

 “So you like me too then?” Adam means it as a joke, but it doesn’t come out like one.

Surprisingly, Ronan doesn’t flinch or blush or anything like that. Instead, he stares right at Adam and says, “I fucking _love_ you, Adam. If that wasn’t obvious.”

Adam’s breath catches and he has a sudden crawling urge to look away. But he doesn’t, and instead bites his lip and offers Ronan a small smile. “I might love you back.”

“You fucker!” Ronan laughs, and it’s one of the best things Adam has ever heard.

When he leans forward to kiss him, Ronan meets him halfway, just like he always has. It’s their first kiss outside of their dreams, which somehow makes it more significant. Adam can’t stop smiling as he hugs his arms around Ronan’s neck and Ronan presses their foreheads together. This is all so familiar, but Adam has a feeling it’s going to be so much better now that they’re awake.

“You know, maybe I can give you a hickey _outside_ of your dreams this time,” Adam teases, pressing a soft kiss between Ronan’s eyebrows.

He can feel Ronan’s smirk against his skin. “You fucking better.”


	6. Fireflies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the wee hours of the morning, Adam wakes up to a room full of fireflies.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've always thought Ronan's dreaming ability is the absolute coolest - like it's such an awesome idea, and Ronan always creates the most amazing and beautiful things.  
> So of course I'm a sap and had to devote at least one chapter to how beautiful Ronan's mind is xD   
> No warnings for this chapter, just pure fluff! Hope you enjoy c:

In the wee hours of the morning, Adam wakes up to a room full of fireflies.

He’s just gotten home for winter break, only the second time he’s been home in nearly five months. He’d come down for Thanksgiving, but that had only been four short days compared to the three weeks he now has with Ronan. It had been harder to leave the second time, and Adam had wondered as he drove away and saw Ronan’s face fall in the rearview mirror if it would ever get any easier.

Being apart from Ronan is…hard, to say the least. Ronan hates being on his phone and he can never handle it for very long, even for Adam. Their calls last about ten minutes every day and it’s not even comparable to talking to Ronan in person. 90% of how Ronan communicates is through his body language, and being unable to see it makes it hard to understand and just makes Adam miss him more.

Skype calls are a bit better, as at least Adam can _see_ Ronan, but 90% of how _they_ communicate is through touch, and not being able to touch Ronan or pet Chainsaw or hug Opal when he talks to them is torture. Though Adam has been starved of touch all his life, the three months spent at the Barns before coming to college had spoiled him, and now he can’t remember how he ever lived without it. He misses Ronan’s absentminded touches, from him briefly placing a hand on his lower back when they move around each other to slinging an arm around his neck when they watch TV on the couch. Adam’s hands have never been colder without Ronan’s fingers between them or his feather light kisses on his knuckles. Ronan had sent Adam off with about a suitcase full of his dream lotion for his hands, so at least they’re not cracked anymore, but it’s never the same.

The worst part, Adam found in the first few weeks of college, is that he has trouble sleeping without Ronan now. It’s too silent, too cold, too empty. Adam had gotten used to Ronan’s warm skin pressed against his, the sound of his breathing, the faint roar of his EDM pounding out of his headphones. Ronan usually plays with his hair while he falls asleep, something Adam never knew he liked until Ronan started doing it and something that he misses with an aching passion in college. He misses being able to shove his cold feet in between Ronan’s warm legs, making him yelp; he misses Opal running into their room, screeching and jumping on their bed until they get up; he misses the soft way Ronan will kiss him good night, never bothering him even when Adam falls asleep right away and he stays awake for another three hours; he misses being warm and happy and known and loved.

He even misses Ronan’s dreaming, good and bad. It gives Adam a sense of excitement upon waking up, to see what magical and mystical thing Ronan has brought back this time. Of course, not all he brings back is good, but they’ve got a system down of taking care of it together. If it’s blood related, Adam methodically strips and washes the sheets while Ronan clings onto him, desperate to know he’s alive. If it’s night terror related, they keep a shovel by their bed that Adam uses to kill it before they haul it outside together and Ronan uses that very same shovel to dig a grave for it. Adam doesn’t really like the killing part after the fact, when he worries for the millionth time he’s turning into his dad, but when he’s irritated at being woken up and the thing is trying to kill Ronan, _his_ Ronan, he doesn’t have as much of a problem with it.

He’d do just about anything to keep Ronan safe.

Ronan’s nightmares had started occurring less and less with Adam staying at the Barns, but Adam worries about him now that he’s not there with him. Who knows what his nightmares escalate to without Adam there to calm him down? But Ronan never talks about it, and Adam has given up asking. Ronan seems okay, and from the secret conversations he has with Opal it sounds like his nightmares are for the most part staying at bay. He has his farm work to keep him busy, and Opal and Chainsaw to keep him company.

It makes Adam feel a bit better knowing that, but he still wishes he was there with him.

Even if he can’t be, though, the next best thing is when Ronan drives up to visit him at Princeton. He loves showing Ronan the campus, even though he knows he really must not give a shit, and introducing him to his college friends and roommate. Of course, he loves it most of all because he can have Ronan with him again, reaching out to touch him, sleeping with him in Adam’s small dorm bed. He gets more sleep than he does any other time when Ronan visits, and just for a little while it feels like home.

They have to be careful about Ronan’s dreaming, what with Adam’s roommate sleeping across the room, but the morning of when Ronan has to leave Adam always wakes up to find some little trinket on his pillow. The first time, it was a little statue of a raven that caws like Chainsaw when Adam taps it. The second time, it was a cashmere blanket that always smells like Ronan, even when he isn’t there. The third time, it was an opal, shiny and perfect. Adam keeps all of them on his bed close by, so it feels a little bit like he’s still with his family.

But Princeton will never compare to the quiet of the Barns, a blanket that smells like Ronan will never be like sleeping next to Ronan for real, little dream trinkets snuck into his pillow will never be like waking up to a room full of magic and wonder.

So when Adam wakes up that first morning to the fireflies, he nearly cries he’s so happy and relieved to be home. He’s missed every little aspect of Ronan so much.

“Ronan?” Adam whispers as he rolls over to face his boyfriend, but Ronan must have fallen back asleep for once, a rare blessing that Adam isn’t about to strip away from him.

So Adam just watches him sleep, admiring the way the faint glow of the fireflies illuminates Ronan’s pale skin. The insects wink on and off as they flit around, making it seem like the room is full of stars. A couple of fireflies land on Adam’s arm, their little feet walking across his skin tickling him. He stares at them in wonder, delighted that they don’t fly away when he leans in closer to get a good look at them. All of Ronan’s dream creatures love him, for a reason that doesn’t need to be kept secret anymore. It’s a little overwhelming for Adam sometimes, when Matthew crushes the air out of him in a ferocious hug, when Opal carefully grabs his hand and leads him around in the forest, showing off all of her discoveries, when Chainsaw lands on his shoulder and cuddles into his neck, content to fall asleep there.

Even after a year of dating Ronan, he’s still not fully used to being loved.

Rolling onto his back, Adam lays there quietly, watching the fireflies and listening to Ronan’s soft snores and the distant braying of cows and goats. They still haven’t figured out how to wake Niall’s cows, but Ronan has added new ones, both dreamt and bought, to the herd. He also bought a couple of goats and chickens, as well as one particularly feisty dream pig that likes to sneak up behind Adam and head-butt him. Ronan also grows all sorts of crops now, and last summer Adam had helped him set up a greenhouse for a rather impressive flower collection. The Barns are growing and expanding, in a magical and rewarding way that is every day becoming less like Niall and more like Ronan.

And maybe even a little bit like Adam.

Adam has taken it upon himself to start planting trees everywhere, from orange trees to pines to redwoods and everything in between. Ronan had offered to dream him up some soil that will make sure anything he plants grows, but Adam had refused; he wants to learn how the trees work for himself, what helps them grow, what doesn’t, what will and won’t grow in this climate. It’s his own personal memorial to Cabeswater, and maybe also a promise to himself to be more prepared to understand magical forests in the future.

He had let Ronan wordlessly hand him an unidentified seed, though, and when Adam planted it it grew into a completely blue tree. Its bark is a dark cerulean blue while its leaves are sky blue, and it apparently grows at random every type of blue food imaginable. Adam had even found blueberry cotton candy growing on it once and he’d laughed so hard he’d startled Sledgehammer the pig, who takes to following him around everywhere.   

He can’t believe Ronan, sometimes – despite all effort to suggest otherwise, his boyfriend has the most beautiful mind out of anyone Adam has ever met. Every day he surprises Adam with his innovation and seemingly endless amount of imagination. Ronan will think of something in an instant, something beautiful and creative and _smart_ , that Adam would never be able to create in a lifetime.

He loves him for it – he’s so happy he has the privilege of being allowed to be this close to Ronan.

Adam isn’t sure how long he’s laid there staring at the fireflies when Ronan wakes up again. When he’s not paralyzed from taking something out of his dreams, Ronan’s awakenings are violent and sudden. One minute he’ll be absolutely still and the next he’ll be thrashing around wildly, throwing the covers off of him and rolling around until he’s comfortable and has worked out all of his sleep kinks.

It’s endlessly amusing to Adam, even if he often gets kicked in the process.

“You always act like the world is on fire when you wake up,” Adam whispers, unable to hold back from teasing him. He reaches out and presses a palm in between Ronan’s shoulder blades once the thrashing has calmed, gently tracing a hooked talon of his tattoo with a finger.

“Well, the one day I wake up and the world _is_ on fire, you’ll be thanking me,” Ronan growls. He’s still half asleep, Adam notes wryly, as his eyes eventually widen when he realizes who exactly had been talking to him.  

“Adam?” he mumbles sleepily as he reaches up to cup Adam’s cheek in his palm. The soft way his first name comes out of his mouth still makes Adam’s heart melt.

“Hey.” He grins and places his hand over Ronan’s, hooking his fingers easily into the spaces between Ronan’s.

“What the hell are you doing up so early?” Ronan murmurs, impossibly soft. Before Adam can reply, though, Ronan looks around the room and sighs exasperatedly as he sees the fireflies. “Ah shit.”

Adam laughs – even in the dark he can tell Ronan is blushing. He wonders how much sappy dream stuff Ronan has had to tuck away while he was gone so that he’d never find it, too embarrassed to show Adam how much he missed him. It’s sweet, adorable, and Adam’s love for him surges warmly in his chest. This is what he’s been missing all this time.

So instead of making fun of him, he leans forward and leaves a soft kiss on Ronan’s temple, hugging an arm around his waist as he settles in next to him again. “I missed you too.”


	7. Baby Makes Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ronan is only mildly surprised when he walks around a tree in Cabeswater and stumbles across a crib. His breath still leaves him though, and for a long time he just stands there, staring at it. He knows he shouldn’t go over to it, that if he does he won’t be able to stop himself from doing something irreversible.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Accidental baby acquisition is one of my absolute favorite tropes EVER so I had to write it for today's prompt! XD  
> There are no warnings here, just pure teeth-rotting fluff.  
> Also, this takes place in the same universe as chapter one, in case you were wondering c:   
> I hope you guys enjoy!!
> 
> P.S. I will be writing something for day 8, but I probably won't be able to get it up tomorrow so it'll be there for you guys on Sunday :')  
> Until then, happy pynch week! It's been so much writing for it this year~

Admittedly, Ronan has been thinking about this for a while now.

The idea had wriggled into his head a few years ago, when he’d been coming to terms with the fact that Opal would be going off to college soon. It was like the situation with Adam all over again, except Ronan felt especially ill-equipped to handle it a second time. Four years of undergrad and two years for a master’s degree away from an integral member of Ronan’s family was enough to last a lifetime – Ronan had no idea what to do about the fact that he’d have to do it again.

It was almost harder with Opal, really. She’d been around as long as Ronan could remember, assisting him in his dreamscape and protecting him from his nightmares. While he was guiltily a little excited about having the entire Barns alone with Adam, he found the idea of Opal being gone for so long unbearable.

But he didn’t want to be in the way of her dreams either, so he knew he would have to let her go.

So then he started wondering what could possibly fill the void of Opal’s absence.

And then he started wondering what it would be like to raise a child for real.

Opal _is_ his daughter, they’d signed the papers to make it official a while back, but she had come out of his head mostly functional and already fiercely independent. Once they’d taught her to stop gnawing on sticks and how to walk in boots to hide her hoofs, she pretty much didn’t need them anymore. She was more like another adult living in their house than anything. (Ronan had even taken an amusing snapshot (amusing to him) of Opal and Adam both hunched over their respective homework at the dining room table, sticking their tongues out in concentration in comically similar fashions.) She just needed to be calmed down from horrific nightmares as often as Ronan did and sometimes a harsh reminder not to eat the wrapper on her granola bars. It had been easy, once Opal had adjusted to the waking world.

And all of it just made Ronan wonder what it would be like to start from scratch.

For a long time, Ronan hadn’t thought he wanted kids. But hell, he’d thought he’d be alone for the rest of his life, and look where he is now. He’d just been worried that he’d never be able to control his dreams, that eventually people would come after him and attack him and destroy his family, just like his had been destroyed so many years ago.

But nobody came. Ronan and Adam have lived off the grid as far as the magic business goes for years, and no one has bothered them since the Gray Man had contacted them a couple of years back to say that he was successfully diverting attention away from Henrietta.  

So now Ronan feels safe to ponder the idea of children. He’d loved growing up in a big family, with his two brothers to tumble around with, and he likes the idea of having a big family again. He also kind of wants to prove that he can be a good dad, or at least a better dad than Niall had ever been. He’s finally old enough to acknowledge that his dad had been a shit dad, though he still holds his intense love for him, and he wants to make it up to the next generation. He doesn’t want anyone feeling neglected and insufficient just because they weren’t a dreamer, like Declan must have felt. He doesn’t want anyone to sit around and wonder if their dad will ever come back home, and then have to find out one day that he won’t ever be coming home again.

And, for a more screwed up reason, Ronan kind of finds the idea of Adam as a dad stupidly attractive.

But it’s Adam himself that makes Ronan hesitate about bringing it up. It’s no secret that Adam’s worst fear is that one day he’ll wake up and find that he’s turned into his father. It’s why he still hasn’t touched a drop of alcohol besides the occasional glass of wine Ronan forces on him when he’s especially tired and stressed. It’s why Adam still flinches sometimes when he touches Opal, like he’s afraid he’ll somehow accidentally hurt her.

Ronan doesn’t want to make him feel pressured to overcome that fear just because he so badly wants another child. He and Adam decide things together, with no one’s opinion meaning more than the other’s. He figures that the safest option for now is to just leave things be. Their life is good right now – there’s no need to add a sudden change.

Which is great, until it suddenly escalates out of his control.

The way it starts is rather ironic, as they _do_ have sex right before. Adam had gotten home late and angry because someone on his team had made critical mistakes in their math and he’d had to stay late at the office to correct them. He has deep bags under his eyes, his usually perfect tie is crooked, and he’s in a horrible mood.

Ronan has learned that the best approach to dealing with an angry Adam is to say nothing at all. Probing at him only makes him explode in his face. So he just wordlessly slides a cup of black coffee over to him when he sits down at the kitchen table with an irritated sigh. Adam downs the whole thing, wordlessly demands another, and then launches into an hour long rant about how shitty everyone at his work is.

“And don’t even get me _started_ on that fucktard Scott; he always does _everything_ wrong and yet somehow still gets away with—why are you looking at me like that?” Adam’s eyes are suddenly piercing into Ronan, who realizes he’d been unsuccessful at hiding his amused smirk behind his cup.

He quickly wipes the smirk away, leaning back against the counter. “No reason.” And then, against better judgement, “You’re just hot when you’re mad.”

“Of all the—!” Adam looks about ready to detonate, but after a second his shoulders loosen and he rolls his eyes. Ronan would be richer than he already is if he had a dollar for every time Adam has rolled his eyes at him. “You’re impossible.”

Ronan grins wolfishly. “At least I’m better than fucking Scott.”

It’s the right thing to say. Adam grins before standing up, abandoning his half-finished coffee and walking over to Ronan. He stops when their chests touch, wrapping his arms around Ronan’s neck and leaning in for a sweet kiss. Ronan hums, settling his hands on Adam’s hips as he kisses him back.

He’s survived this round.

“How was your day?” Adam asks between kisses.

Ronan shrugs, moving down to kiss Adam’s jaw. “Fine. Just farm stuff. Set up at the farmer’s market. Sold some shit. Nothing eventful.” He raises his eyebrows suggestively at Adam. “Yet.”

Adam snorts, but he also tends to be in the mood for sex when he’s had a bad day at work so he leads Ronan up to the bedroom anyway.

Once they’re done, spent and happy once more, Adam gets up to let the dogs into the room before trotting back to the bed and opening his book. He always reads before bed, so Ronan, as always, tucks his arm around his waist and rolls onto his stomach, getting comfortable for an attempt at easy sleep. He goes to bed earlier now than he did as a teen since he has to get up early for farming work.

Just as he’s sinking into his pillow and Adam’s warmth, however, their three hounds climb onto the bed and immediately flop onto his back.

“Fucking…! Your dog-children are suffocating me!” Ronan groans under the weight. Misty, their Australian Shepherd, licks at the back of his neck, making him shiver violently. He tries half-heartedly to roll her off of him, but Ray the golden retriever and Chip the husky have dutifully pinned down Ronan’s legs.

Adam snorts and doesn’t even look up from his book as he reaches out to scratch Misty’s ears. “They’re your dog-children, too.”

“So when a gay man and a bi man love each other very much…”

Adam chokes out a laugh and shoves a pillow into Ronan’s face. “Apparently they make three dog-children. But the real question is: who gives birth to them?”

Ronan laughs so hard his sides hurt. God Adam is the most amazing human being he has ever met in his entire life. Pushing the dogs off of him, the action easy now with his sudden surge of motivation, Ronan scrambles over to tackle Adam down onto the mattress. Adam lets out a surprised yelp, his book tumbling onto the floor as Ronan nuzzles into his neck. “Hey! You made me lose my page!”

“Oh please, you have the whole damn thing memorized anyway.” Ronan rolls his eyes and leans back to press a soft kiss to Adam’s lips. He lets himself smile a little, lost in the shining amusement in Adam’s blue eyes. “I love you.”

Adam reaches up to stroke his cheek. “I love you too. Even if you did give birth to three dog-children.”

“Hey, who’s to say it wasn’t _you_?” Ronan growls, but he’s laughing again as he rolls over to lie next to Adam. He watches his husband, mesmerized by the way his dimples show when he laughs.

Adam smirks and shoves his cold feet in between Ronan’s legs. “Because I think I would remember something like that.”

“They say some women don’t remember the pain of childbirth,” Ronan says as he wraps his arm around Adam’s waist and pulls him in tighter.

Adam raises a playful eyebrow. “Yes, but they _don’t_ say that some men don’t remember the pain of dog-childbirth.”

“God I fucking hate you!” Ronan laughs, but he’s happy and warm and still hopelessly in love. He falls asleep staring at Adam’s smile and rubbing lazy circles into his hip.

As usual, he falls into a dream. With all of the thoughts and discussions of children and birthing lately, Ronan is only mildly surprised when he walks around a tree in Cabeswater and stumbles across a crib. His breath still leaves him though, and for a long time he just stands there, staring at it. He knows he shouldn’t go over to it, that if he does he won’t be able to stop himself from doing something irreversible.

And yet he finds himself walking over anyway, like something is drawing him forward. There’s a soft crying now, and Ronan can see the gentle flailing of tiny limbs over the lip of the crib. He catches a glimpse of one of the baby’s limbs before it falls back down again.

A pale, freckled arm.

Ronan curses his overactive brain for doing this to himself, but by now he’s already standing next to the crib. He tries not to look in, he really does, but the freckled arm had attracted his attention and now he can’t _not_ look in at it.

Just one peek. That’s all.

It’s a mistake.

Ronan doesn’t even remember grabbing the baby, but when he wakes from the dream there is loud, shrilling crying in his ear and a hand violently shaking his shoulder. “Ronan, _Ronan!_ Ronan, wake up!”

Ronan _is_ awake, but he can’t do anything to prove it. He can’t move a finger, his body paralyzed from bringing the little bundle in his arms out of his dream. He wishes he could move, though, because he can roll his eyes around and see that Adam is panicking and that the bundle in his arms is actually what he thinks it is and that he has royally fucked everything up.

When he can finally move again, he rolls over with a groan, clutching the bundle tighter in his arms. Adam can most definitely see what he’s brought out now, and his eyes are as wide as saucers as he stares at Ronan like he has three heads. “Ronan, that’s—!”

Ronan closes his eyes and heaves a big sigh. “A fucking baby. Yeah.”

 

\--

 

Adam is mad.

“I can’t believe you didn’t consult me about this!” he fumes, though the effect is immediately canceled out by the little baby boy cocked on his hip. Ronan is melting.

“It’s not like I brought him back on purpose!” he whispers back, not wanting to alarm the baby as he steps forward to ease a bottle of milk to his lips. The baby drinks eagerly, to Ronan’s relief. “I was going to talk to you about it! I’ve just been thinking about it a lot lately, and when I stumbled across him in my dream…”

He trails off, still uncomfortable with stating his feelings outright. About how he’d fallen in love with the baby on first sight. About how he’d seen Adam’s blue eyes and his own curly hair on that little baby and couldn’t just _not_ pick him up.

Adam scoffs and rolls his eyes, but his expression is softer now, more understanding. “I know you didn’t bring him back on purpose, but I would’ve still liked to be part of the process. You should’ve told me when you first started thinking about it.”

Ronan looks away. He should’ve, but he’d thought Adam wouldn’t want to. Adam has trouble seeing how good he is with Opal, no matter how much Ronan tries to show him, no matter how well Opal has turned out because of him. Adam obviously loves Opal, and Opal obviously loves him, but it’s apparently not enough to fully dissipate Adam’s fears. Ronan hadn’t brought it up with him because he hadn’t wanted to get into a fight over it.

The idea seems stupid now.

“I…I didn’t think you’d want to…” he admits, rubbing a hand over his head. It’s still a habit, even though he actually has hair now to get caught in his fingers.

“You’re an idiot,” Adam says bluntly, and Ronan flinches. For a moment, he feels angry. Why does he always get in trouble for trying to do the right thing? It’s like he’s just one big fuck-up no matter what his intentions are.

But then Adam walks closer to him, shifting the baby into Ronan’s arms. Ronan hugs him tightly, so he won’t fall. He’s staring so intensely at the little boy, awestruck, that Adam has to place his hands on Ronan’s cheeks to force him to look at him. It’s the first time in over twelve years that Ronan has to be _made_ to look at Adam, and the idea amuses him slightly.

“The truth is, I’ve…been looking into adoption,” Adam says quietly, running his thumb down Ronan’s jaw.

Ronan just stares at him. “Adam, I love you, but we have three dogs already – you seriously want to get another one…?”

“ _No_ you idiot,” Adam snaps, but a smile is twitching at the corners of his lips. Ronan grins back. “ _Human_ adoption. I’ve been thinking about getting a baby too, Ronan.”

For a moment, the words don’t even process. Ronan just blinks at Adam in shock, convinced he hasn’t heard right. “Wh-what? But I thought—?”

Adam suddenly seems embarrassed as he stares down at the baby, a small smile gracing his lips as the boy reaches for him. Adam hands him a finger in return, and when the baby grasps at it with a cry of delight Ronan nearly explodes from the cuteness overload. “Look, I know I’ve been…hesitant for a long time about this, and God I’m still terrified, but… _You’ve_ always wanted kids. You love Opal, but she was never going to be enough for you. So I thought…I thought we could give it a try… And before you say anything, I want this too. I want…I want to try having a family with you, Ronan.”

Ronan is gaping for a completely different reason now. He never realized how… _known_ he is. He always seems to forget that Adam can see right through him, that he doesn’t even have to learn to be comfortable with stating his feelings out loud because often Adam just _knows_. Ronan can do the same for Adam, but now he’s starting to realize why Adam was always so freaked out about it.

It’s scary being so transparent, even to the man he’s been together with for ten years.

Adam is looking at him again, and he looks so terrified that Ronan wants to wrap his arms tightly around him and never let go. “You’ll stop me if I ever try to hurt them, won’t you?”

“God, Adam,” Ronan murmurs, shifting the baby to one arm so he can cup Adam’s cheek with his palm. “Listen to me – you will _never_ be like that piece of shit, alright? I’ve seen you Adam, we’ve lived together for ten years; I’ve seen how good you are with Opal. Who was the one who sat up with her and helped her with her homework? Who was the one who made her a makeshift sling and called the ambulance while I did nothing but freak the fuck out when she broke her elbow? Who was the one who toured colleges with her, made sure she had all of her shots, made her wear her safety gear when we went spelunking, combed and braided her hair all this time?”

“Me,” Adam says quietly, but it comes out cracked. He leans into Ronan’s palm and reaches up to cover it with his own; Ronan can feel his hand shaking. “But just in case—”

“You would _never_ hurt them,” Ronan says firmly, leaving no room for misunderstandings.

But Adam is still shaking his head, looking very much like he’s trying not to cry. “You don’t know that—”

“I _do_ know that,” Ronan interrupts. “And you wanna know why? Because I’ve been staring at your dumb ass for twelve years and you have never hurt _anyone_. Because you love Opal so damn much that you flew all the way to Seattle just to help her move into her dorm. And you _hate_ flying.”

Adam laughs a little before that beautiful small smile comes back onto his lips. A stray tear runs down his cheek, and Ronan swipes it away with his thumb. “I can’t believe you’ve been staring at my ass for twelve years.”

Ronan scowls before playfully swatting at Adam’s head. “Be flattered you shit.”

“Thank you, Ronan,” he murmurs quietly, suddenly serious.

Ronan hugs him tightly with his free arm, and doesn’t even comment on the tears he can feel soaking into his tank. “You’re going to be the best damn dad anyone has ever seen.”

 

\--

 

“Daddy, I wanna lick the bowl!” Ken Niall Lynch-Parrish, barely 5, says, holding up his chubby arms towards Adam. Adam is more the baker of the family, Ronan prefers cooking dinner-type foods, and he stands at the counter mixing a cake. It’s Ken’s birthday, and all of their friends and family are coming over that night to celebrate. Even Opal is flying home from Seattle, though her quickly approaching finals means she can’t stay for more than two days.

But it’ll be alright. Ronan is just happy to have all his kids in the same place again.

“It’s bad for you, Ken,” Adam chides, but when the toddler’s face falls he rolls his eyes fondly and stoops down to pick Ken up in his arms, holding him so that he can reach the bowl on the counter. “Only because it’s your birthday.”

Ken squeals with delight as he reaches for the bowl, grasping the spoon and licking from it eagerly. Ronan, seated at the table, can’t stop grinning. It’s been five years of raising their boys, and he will _never_ get tired of watching Adam be a dad. It’s his absolute favorite thing.

“Papa?” A small hand suddenly tugs at Ronan’s pant leg, and he looks down to find their dream boy, Jerome Noah Lynch-Parrish, also 5, staring up at him. His fist is clenched tightly, as if holding something in his hand.

“What’s up, squirt?” Ronan asks, pulling the boy into his lap.

Jerome looks down shyly before opening his fist and offering the object to Ronan. “Papa, I think it turned out right this time…”

Inside the toddler’s palm is a toy car, one that suspiciously looks like Adam’s Cadillac. When Ronan spins the front wheel, a familiar song begins to play: _“Squash one, squash two—_ ”

Ronan quickly stops the wheel, muting the tune. He glances sharply up at Adam, but his husband is too busy helping Ken clean off the rest of the bowl that it looks like he hadn’t heard anything. For once, Ronan thanks the fact that Adam is half-deaf.

Grinning, Ronan places a messy kiss on Jerome’s temple. “It’s perfect. Why don’t you go give it to your Daddy?”

“Okay!” The toddler grins before carefully climbing down from Ronan’s lap and running to Adam.

Jerome is unique in the fact that he is both a dreamer and a dream. Ronan hasn’t noticed anything other than that that differentiates him from non-dream babies, like his brother Ken who they had adopted from Japan, which had been a relief for both him and Adam. While they would’ve loved him either way, it’s just easier on Ronan not having to dream up all of his pairs of shoes and such like he has to do for Opal. He also hopes that someday he’ll be able to work with Jerome to improve Cabeswater and find a more permanent solution for dreams that no longer have their dreamer.

It’s of even more importance now that they find the answer.

But that’s a long ways away. For now, Ronan is content to sport a shit-eating grin as he watches Jerome tug on Adam’s pant leg. “Daddy, I dreamt this for you!”

“Oh?” Adam has to set Ken down to accept the car from Jerome, and Ken crowds next to his brother to also get a look at what he’d presented Adam.

“No fair Jerome, where’s _my_ dream present? It’s _my_ birthday!” Ken whines.

Jerome, a surprisingly gentle-natured child considering he’d come out of Ronan’s head, smiles and says, “I already dreamed your present! Papa just won’t let me give it to you until Aunty Blue, Uncle Dick, Uncle Henry, Uncle Declan, and Uncle Matthew are here.”

Ken sulks, but the answer seems to satisfy him. Ronan counts it a mental win that his son had called Gansey ‘Dick’ instead of ‘Gansey’, but he doesn’t bask in the glory of it for long. Right now he has more important things to witness.

Adam smiles as he inspects the tiny model of his own car, obviously touched. It makes Ronan feel a bit bad for what he’s about to do to him. “Thank you, Jerome! It looks just like our Cadillac.”

“Spin the wheel!” Jerome chirps, a huge grin on his face. Ronan has to bite his lip to prevent himself from barking out a loud laugh.

“Alright…” Adam, obviously having no suspicions whatsoever, spins the wheel.

“ _Squash one, squash two—_ ”

Adam stalls the wheel on his palm immediately before whirling to face Ronan, comically furious. “Of all of the beautiful and innovative things you could be teaching our son how to make, why did you decide to teach him how to make _this_?! This song died ten years ago!!”

“That song is a fucking classic!” Ronan barks, leaning back in his chair and roaring with laughter. Adam looks ready to strike back with a scathing retort to that, but their son interrupts him.

“You don’t like it, Daddy?” Jerome asks, the poor boy sounding absolutely crushed.

Adam falters. “No, Jerome, it’s great! Thank you. You’re getting so much better at controlling your dreaming.” Ronan snickers at the fact that he got Adam to admit the Murder Squash Song was great, and Adam points at him in a scarily accurate imitation of Gansey. “This isn’t over, Lynch.”

“That’s _Lynch-Parrish_ to you!” Ronan says cheekily, and just laughs as Adam throws a dish towel at him.

Later, when the rest of their crazy family is all together and watching Ken open his presents, Ronan is suddenly struck with how amazing this all is. That he, Ronan Lynch-Parrish, is lucky enough to have stumbled upon such an incredibly strange and incredibly amazing group of people who make him feel loved and accepted every day. It’s a long cry away from where he was as a teenager, and honestly it’s a goddamn miracle.

He even has a soft smile on his face as he watches Ken unwrap the little stuffed animal that Jerome had dreamed for him, one that lights up like a night light in all sorts of fantastical colors. Ken absolutely _loves_ it, and he’s grinning from ear to ear as he tackles his brother in a hug.

As if reading Ronan’s thoughts, Adam squeezes his knee and leans over to whisper in his ear, his breath warm on his skin, “Can you believe this is our family? _Our_ family??”

Ronan breaks his gaze from their sons for a moment to grin fondly at Adam. He cups his cheek gently before leaning in to leave a quick peck on his lips. “Not at all, no. It’s like a goddamn dream.”

Adam grins at him, happy and awake and finally filled out in his form, and kisses Ronan back. “Well, if it is, then I _never_ want to wake up.”


	8. Until I Turn to Dust

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Every moment of his waking life, and often his sleeping one too, Ronan feels like he has accidentally stumbled upon happiness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't believe it took me until my last fic to include Declan and Matthew smh  
> It's been so much fun writing for pynch week this year!!!! The prompts were fun and it was cool to see what everyone else's takes on them were as well~  
> THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING, COMMENTING, AND LEAVING KUDOS I CAN'T THANK YOU ALL ENOUGH <3 You gave me the motivation I needed to actually sort of stay on schedule xD;;
> 
> I really hope you enjoy the final chapter, and thank you so much again!! :') 
> 
> P.S. The Script song I used for the quote and the title of this chapter is very pynch in my opinion, please check it out!!

_I fell for you and I never got up_

_I stay here forever ‘til I turn to dust_

_Just take every minute make it last for life_

_24/7 baby 3-6-5._

-“The Energy Never Dies” by The Script

 

Every moment of his waking life, and often his sleeping one too, Ronan feels like he has accidentally stumbled upon happiness.

He never thought he would meet someone like Gansey, who sticks with him even through all of Ronan’s worst hours, who was and always will be the friend that Ronan has needed more than anything. He never thought he would meet someone like Blue, who challenges him every day for being an asshole by also being an asshole, something he didn’t realize he loves as much as he does until she came into his life. He never thought he would start to get along with Declan, that he would actually maybe look forward to the times when all three Lynch brothers can be together.

And most of all, he never would’ve thought in a million years that he would meet someone like Adam Parrish. Someone who is so bright and sarcastic, someone who was given the shittiest hand in the entire world and through pure grit and determination got himself to someplace better. Someone who can and dares to fight back with Ronan but then can also pick him out of the dust and remains of his worst fears and give him something to hold onto. He’s been in love with Adam for two whole years, and not once during that entire time did he think he would ever get to kiss him. That Adam would kiss him back. That Adam goddamn Parrish would say yes when he asked him out.

But he did.

It hits Ronan especially hard in the early hours of the morning, when he’s watching Adam sleep peacefully beside him, that he is so incredibly lucky to have stumbled upon this kind of pure and relentless happiness. Just earlier, Adam had let Ronan leave kisses all over his body, especially his hands, and he’d blown Ronan so hard that minutes after he could still see nothing but stars and _Adam Adam Adam_. Ronan learned that Adam looks gorgeous with sweat sticking his bangs to his forehead and with that tiny little smile that Adam saves just for him. Ronan also learned that Adam is extremely ticklish on his ribcage, something that he plans to take full advantage of in the future.

He feels blessed every moment that Adam Parrish has let him be this close to him, for allowing him to love him and to be loved in return. Ronan is closer to Adam than anyone else has been before, he’s pretty sure, and it blows his mind.

It’s literally the best thing that’s ever happened to him.

When he wakes up that Sunday morning, Adam is practically sprawled on top of Ronan—not an unusual occurrence, considering that Adam’s mattress is the smallest thing in the entire universe—and Ronan has never felt so content and happy. There’s drool drying on his shoulder where Adam’s head lolls and one of his knobby knees is digging uncomfortably into Ronan’s thigh, but he never wants to move again. Adam smells like his pine-scented aftershave and oil and his warmth against Ronan is perfect enough to make him think he died and went to heaven.

Because this would be his heaven – getting to lie in bed with Adam for all of eternity, drawing his fingers gently through his incredibly silky hair and admiring his beautiful hands.

There is no place he would rather be so he refuses to get up, even though he knows Declan and Matthew will be here soon for church and that he actually needs to put a suit on. Instead he entertains himself by counting the freckles on Adam’s shoulder blades. He keeps losing track and having to start over again, but he’s at ninety-three when someone knocks concisely on the door, rousing Adam.

It’s obviously Declan, so Ronan stubbornly remains in bed as he calls out, “It’s open!”

Declan walks in, scans the room for a moment, and then swears and puts a hand over his eyes. “Jesus, you didn’t warn me you were indecent!”

“I’m _always_ indecent,” Ronan snorts as a very sleepy Adam rolls off him and nearly onto the floor in an attempt to get up. “Relax, it’s not like we’re naked.”

A blessing that only occurred because Adam had predicted last night that they would not be able to wake up and get dressed before Ronan’s brothers appeared. Ronan loves how right Adam is about these things.

“What time is it?” Adam asks between a loud yawn that gives Ronan an amazing view of his teeth and bruised lips.

For this first time in his entire life, Ronan kind of wants to skip church.

“Nine – Ronan should’ve been ready ten minutes ago,” Declan says irritably, hands on his hips.

“We’re above the church, it’ll literally take us ten seconds to get down there,” Ronan argues as he pulls himself off of Adam’s mattress and pokes around the room in search of his dress pants. He knows he brought them to Adam’s place last night, but he lost track of them in the heat of the moment.

“And yet we’re _still_ going to be late!” Declan snaps.  

Ronan ignores him and, finally finding his pants, starts to get dressed. Matthew, ever the ball of sunshine and never one to be deterred by his older brothers’ bickering, dashes into the apartment and nearly tackles Adam to the floor in what must be a spine-crushing hug. “Adam, my man! Are you joining us today?”

“No, I have some homework to catch up on,” Adam says as he awkwardly pats Matthew’s head. The idea of church has always been a little bit uncomfortable for Adam, Ronan knows, but he’s pretty sure he’s the only one who picks up on the uncertainty in his tone. “Say hi to Ms. Bertha for me, though.”

Ronan snorts loudly. “Ms. Bertha! Everything’s always about Ms. Bertha.”

He doesn’t actually have anything against the old lady; she’s been kind to Adam, like secretly leaving food on his doorstep or bringing him clothes she convinces him no one else will take, methods that Ronan greatly approves of. It’s just that every time he talks to her now she asks him things like: “How is Adam today?” or “Are you treating Adam well, Ronan? That boy deserves the world.” And while Ronan agrees, it’s fucking annoying; he hates having to talk about his feelings for Adam, especially to other people. It’s embarrassing.

Adam, knowing all of this, just smirks at him. His bedhead and the still sleepy look in his eyes makes Ronan want to pounce him. “You jealous, Lynch?”

“No, why? Should I be? Didn’t know you were into old hags, Parrish.”

Adam throws a pillow at him, making Ronan snicker. Declan scoffs loudly and taps the expensive watch on his wrist impatiently. “As _riveting_ as this old married couple bickering is, we’re _late_ , Ronan!”

“Christ, calm the fuck down will you?” Ronan snaps back, irritably tugging his tie on. “I’m ready, I’m ready – it only took me like two minutes!”

“And yet you can still never bother to be on time!” Declan rolls his eyes before grabbing Matthew and pulling him out the door. “Come on then!”

Ronan’s about to follow, complaining all the way of course, when Adam suddenly grabs his shoulder. “Wait.”

“Can’t get enough of me, Parrish?” Ronan teases, leaning into Adam and wrapping his arms around his waist.

Adam rolls his eyes, but doesn’t gift Ronan with the satisfaction of an answer. Instead, he just starts fixing his tie, his long fingers making deft work of the shimmery fabric. “You’ve been going to church every week of your life and you still can’t tie your tie properly.”

“It’s a fashion statement,” Ronan retorts, deciding to be annoying by attempting to kiss Adam while he straightens his tie.

“You’re a menace,” Adam says, making Ronan cackle. But suddenly Adam is pulling him forward by his tie, leaving a firm kiss on his lips. Ronan stares at him in wonder, his knees starting to wobble at the suggestive smirk on Adam’s face. “You’re much more attractive when your tie is on straight, though.”

“…Why do you always do this when I have to leave, Parrish?” Ronan groans, reaching up to tangle his fingers in Adam’s hair as he kisses him desperately.

“You only ever dress up when you’re going to church – what else am I supposed to do?” Adam teases, but Ronan is about two seconds from deciding to wear a tie for the rest of his life.

He’s about to say this out loud, but Declan’s annoying voice hollers up the stairs, “Ronan! We’re missing the service!”

Ronan growls and kisses Adam one more time before retreating reluctantly. “My suit will still be on afterwards, Parrish,” he says as he pounds down the stairs.

When he looks back up, Adam is leaning on the handrail, grinning at him. His hair is a mess and he’s wearing nothing but one of Ronan’s tanks and his boxers and for the millionth time Ronan is almost drawn back upstairs. “I look forward to it, Lynch.”

Declan pulls him away before he can say anything more, and Adam’s words replaying over and over again in his head is the only thing that keeps him from growling at him for it. Matthew sidles up beside him as they walk into the church, quietly sitting down in a pew near the back, and whispers, “You two are cute.”

Ronan blushes, but he can’t respond to that either because the service has already begun.

The three brothers fall into silence; going to church is the only time the three of them are still and quiet around each other instead of yelling and roughhousing. Ronan tries his best to pay attention to the sermon, but more often than not he finds his mind trailing back to Adam. He wonders what he’s doing right now, if his eyebrows are furrowed in that cute little expression of concentration he has, or what his hands look like working right now…

Every time, he has to forcibly derail his thoughts before they become too graphic for the inside of a church.

When the sermon is over and the space becomes open for confession, Ronan gets in line behind Declan, like he always does. As he’s waiting in line, he thinks about how different of a place he’s in now. He’s spent most of his life hating himself for who he is, either because of his dreams or because of his sexual orientation, and now he has a boyfriend, one that he loves openly and with his entire being. Declan, Matthew, and some nice old ladies (including Ms. Bertha) that are friends of the family know about Adam and don’t shun them for it. It’s amazing to him. He’s in love with another man and no one has struck him down yet.

But he still hasn’t said it out loud. He’s introduced Adam as his boyfriend to a select few people, but he’s never said those three little words, or told anyone else in words how much he loves Adam. Though part of it is because he’s extremely bad at talking about his feelings, he wonders now if part of him had always been afraid that something terrible would happen if he said it out loud. If it would somehow ruin his happiness instead of expanding it.

He thinks of Adam’s sleepy little smile and wonders if it’s time to stop being silent.

He makes up his mind right as Declan comes out of the confession box and pats him on the shoulder. The touch could mean anything, and probably means _behave yourself_ , but Ronan likes to think of it as encouragement.

Ronan shuffles into the confession box and sits down. He can see nothing but the grated window and it makes it easier to pretend he’s alone, even though he can hear the minister breathing on the other end. He takes a deep breath, rubs his hands over his buzzed scalp. Father Arnold is always patient with him, more patient than Ronan thinks anyone in his entire life has ever been with him, and best of all doesn’t push him to talk. They’ve had many confessions where they just sit in silence, Ronan either struggling or disinterested in saying anything. As he takes his time finding his words, he knows that Father Arnold knows it’s him. He always seems to know, even though it’s supposed to be anonymous. To be fair though, Ronan is probably the only person who has sat here for years, fighting with himself to say out loud what he hadn’t even let himself think until recently.

His second secret. The one he’s kept so locked up that for a long time he’d even kept it from himself.

Except, it’s no longer a secret: he’s told himself, and maybe even more terrifying he’s _showed_ Adam. He showed him his deepest darkest secret, and by showing Adam he’d also shown Declan, Gansey, Blue, Matthew, Henry, and those old ladies.

And now, for the first time in a long time, Ronan has something to say.

“Father, I have sinned,” Ronan eventually murmurs, though it still takes him a while to force the words out. He takes a deep breath and clenches his fists at his sides as he continues, “But it doesn’t feel like I’ve sinned.”

Father Arnold doesn’t even sound surprised as he says, “And what is it that you did?”

This part is even harder to admit. Ronan has never uttered it aloud, not even to Adam. He doesn’t know how to form the words in his mouth. He has kept this secret for so long that it’s hard to tell, even though he wants to.

“I kissed Adam Parrish,” he finally blurts out, and he feels free, elated, terrified. Something tight in his chest throbs and releases and suddenly he’s free falling, open and unrestricted but with absolutely no idea where he’s going to land. “You know, the guy who’s renting the room upstairs? I kissed him and asked him out and he said yes. And Father, it’s the best goddamn thing that has ever happened to me.”

Realizing belatedly that he shouldn’t have used that particular curse in confession, he mumbles, “Sorry.”

Father Arnold is silent for a long time, silent for so long that the wide open space inside Ronan starts to close up again and suddenly he’s purely afraid that he fucked up. That Father Arnold will break his code and go out and tell the bigots at the church and they’ll be shunned and mocked. Adam could lose his apartment and _God_ Ronan hasn’t thought this through at all…

“Being in love is not a sin, Ronan,” Father Arnold finally says, and the use of his name almost surprises Ronan more than the actual words. “Love is compassion, and compassion is what makes this world our Lord has created great. Compassion is what makes connections, brings you fulfillment, and improves the lives of yourself and those around you. You hold so much compassion within you Ronan that I’m sure it must be hard for you contain it, but it is _never_ a sin. You have found someone that means the world to you, and that is okay, even if he is another boy. You will help each other and grow together, and I sincerely believe that that is a good thing. The Lord is happy as long as you are happy.”

Ronan has no idea what to say to that, his heart is pounding so hard he isn’t sure he can say anything at all, but before he can figure it out Father Arnold continues, “Are you happy, Ronan?”

“Yes, Father,” Ronan replies immediately, his fingers loosening their tight grip on his pants. “Adam makes me so happy that I don’t know how to handle it sometimes.”

“Then you are where you are meant to be, my child,” Father Arnold says, and Ronan can hear the smile in his voice.

He swallows thickly. “Thank you, Father.”

And then he practically runs out of the confession box because he needs to move, to expel the sudden elated energy that explodes inside of him. He ignores Matthew’s surprised expression as he runs out of the church, feeling wild and hyper. He wants to laugh, he wants to cry, he wants to roll on the grass and set the world on fire because he feels so _alive_. Everything is going his way for once and he feels like he doesn’t have to hide who he is or be afraid.

He’s never felt so light and free in his entire life.

Declan is standing outside waiting for them when Ronan crashes out of the church like a crazy person, and he jumps a little as he looks up from his phone. “Ronan, what the hell—?”

But Ronan ignores him too and pounds up the steps back to Adam’s apartment, not even bothering to knock as he barges his way in. Adam is sitting exactly where he imagined he would be, huddled over his desk, his eyebrows furrowed as his brain works out what appears to be a complicated calculus problem.

He looks up as Ronan enters, not even surprised. The soft smile on his face makes Ronan’s heart soar even higher. “Hey, you. How did it go?”

Ronan doesn’t bother to reply, he doesn’t think he _can_ express the flurry of emotions in his chest, so he just runs over and scoops Adam up in his arms, holding him as tightly as he can and swirling him around in a circle. Adam lets out a surprised yelp, looking frazzled as he grips onto Ronan for dear life. When Ronan sets him back down on the ground, he frowns and presses the back of his hand to Ronan’s forehead, like he’s worried he has a fever. “Are you feeling alright?”

And Ronan laughs, because really, what a _question_.

“I’ve never felt better in my goddamn life,” Ronan says, and he leans in to kiss Adam breathlessly, pressing their foreheads together. “I love you, Adam.”

It’s the first time he’s ever said it out loud, and it feels like a giant weight is lifted from his back. He feels like he could run a marathon, swim across an entire ocean, pull at least ten things out of his dreams at once. Seeing the startled look on Adam’s face, though, he hurries to add, “I don’t expect you to say it back or anything, I just…I just needed you to know.”

For a moment Adam just blinks at him, but then he’s smiling a shy smile and Ronan can’t help but lean in and kiss him again. When they part, Adam draws a finger down Ronan’s jaw and whispers, “I think that’s the first time anyone has ever said that to me.”

This piece of knowledge makes Ronan angry and sad and everything in between, but instead of indulging these emotions he just kisses Adam’s good ear and whispers back, “Then I’ll say it as often as you need to hear it. You deserve to hear it all the goddamn time, Adam.”

“Oh God, please don’t say it _that_ often, I don’t think I can handle that,” Adam laughs shakily, and he’s blushing as Ronan presses another kiss to his lips. That’s fine – he won’t be able to say it that often either, if he’s being realistic. He’ll just throw it in when Adam needs the reminder.

Or when he’s least expecting it. That blush is doing wonders to Ronan’s heart.

“Hey, Matthew’s done – are you two lovebirds ready to go to lunch, or—?” Declan says, walking into the room right as Ronan had parted his lips so Adam could sneak his tongue into his mouth. “Jesus Christ!!”

“Declan, please, we’re above a church,” Adam says, and Ronan drops his head down onto his shoulder as he dissolves into laughter.

Declan opens his mouth and closes it again about three or four times before throwing his arms up into the air and stalking back out of the apartment. Ronan chuckles and hugs Adam’s waist, swaying gently as he kisses his neck. “You know, we could go for lunch, _or_ we could do something else, taking full advantage of my suit…”

“Hm, I’m actually pretty hungry though,” Adam says and to Ronan’s utter dismay steps away from him and walks to his desk, stuffing his wallet and keys into his pockets and heading out the door. Ronan’s still gaping at him when he turns around to face him again, raising an eyebrow. “You coming?”

“Never mind, Parrish, I take it back!” he shouts, but he obviously doesn’t mean it as he runs to Adam, leaving one last kiss on his lips before they walk down to Declan’s Volvo, hand in hand.

 

\--

 

A couple of weeks later they’re at the Barns, lazing around in the faint afternoon sunlight that lingers on the living room couch. Ronan is lying on his front, shirtless, and Adam is huddled next to him, absentmindedly tracing his tattoo with his calloused fingers. They’d been talking about meaningless things before and now are perfectly content to sit in silence, just appreciating the other’s warmth and presence. It’s a rare moment when Adam is fully caught up on work and school and Ronan wants to take complete advantage of it.

“Hey, you know?” Adam says quietly after a while. Ronan turns his head to the side to stare at him questioningly. But Adam just shakes his head and laughs to himself, pulling a hand through his sweaty hair. Ronan watches the action with way too much attention and interest. “Shit, that was the stupidest way to start this.”

Ronan is even more confused than before. “Just spit it out, Parrish.”

“I love you,” Adam blurts; his direct gaze on Ronan when he says it nearly shatters him. “I mean it – I’ve never been happier than I am when I’m with you, Ronan.”

“…Adam,” Ronan chokes, and for a horrifying moment he’s worried he’s going to start crying. He never could’ve guessed how intensely _happy_ hearing Adam say that to him would make him, and he’s thus unprepared to deal with it. It hits him like a tidal wave and warms his entire body, leaving him shaking, ecstatic, and so very _alive_.

He tackles Adam, pressing down onto him as he hugs him as tightly as he can at this awkward angle. Adam laughs and wraps one arm around Ronan’s shoulders while using the other hand to caress the back of his head, his fingers automatically rubbing through the fuzz on top of Ronan’s head. “Ronan…!” 

“I love you too,” Ronan gasps, high from the way Adam had said his first name as he nuzzles into Adam’s neck. “ _God_ , I love you so fucking much.”

Adam laughs again, cutely embarrassed like he is every other time Ronan says it, and it just makes him love him more. “Careful, God might strike you down for saying that.”  

But Ronan knows God is chill with it, and that just seems to make today that much brighter.

**Author's Note:**

> My [twitter](https://twitter.com/kaoru_of_hakone)  
> My [tumblr](https://swimmingwolf59.tumblr.com/)


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